


Learning

by mitsukai613



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4140498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsukai613/pseuds/mitsukai613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo discovers that dwarven ideas of propriety are very different from a hobbit's, and as such tells a rather inappropriate story that results in a somewhat strange request from Kili, who wants the opportunity to be with someone physically before he reaches Erebor. Ultimately, he realizes greater feelings for Bilbo that lead to him attempting to court the hobbit, who is just terribly confused by all of it and not entirely sure of what to do, though Kili's determination and enthusiasm really are quite cute, and truly he thinks that loving that dwarf wouldn't be so terribly hard to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, sorry that I'm doing this again, but once more I have grown too busy to get another chapter written of what I'm actually working on, so I've had to resort to another unfinished thing lying in the depths of my computer. Again, very sorry, but I'm moving in August and slowly realizing how much it takes to prepare for something like that even this far ahead, especially when one is going from Middle-of-Nowhere, USA where I currently live to an actual, real life city.

                It was very late and very dark, the only light of the evening coming from the high fire blazing in the center of the tightly knit circle the dwarves and myself had made as the night started getting colder. Gandalf, oftentimes flighty wizard that he is, had wandered off two nights before and promised to meet us later, though when later was, he never said. None of us could sleep, too cold and too worried that the orcs would find us again no matter how far the eagles had taken us, and so we sat together, chatting or singing, to pass the night. Thorin sat at my right while Fili and Kili sat at my left, as they’d been doing since that evening on the Carrock, and none of the other dwarves ever mentioned it or complained despite the fact that it had never been that way before.

                Actually, I hadn’t really been able to have much of anything to do with the other dwarves since then, now that I thought on it; Thorin always seemed to have something or another to talk to me about whenever any of the other dwarves came about, and on the rare occasion that he didn’t, Fili and Kili had some new little miniature adventure to drag me on. It was quite odd, at least on Thorin’s part, as honestly the boys weren’t much different than ever, but I supposed it was simply how he showed his gratitude, and I imagined it would be best not to mention it. I thought it would be a simple night, passed with the same comradery I’d grown to expect and appreciate those past days, until, of course, something changed.

                “Tell the story about the maid in that human village again, Fili, the baker’s daughter that was so fond of you,” Bofur suddenly said, and the other dwarves, of course, set to calling out their approval. Thorin frowned. Kili laughed. Fili grinned.

                “Never get tired of that one, eh, Bofur?” Fili questioned, obviously settling in for the story, and Thorin reached over me to settle a serious hand on his nephew’s arm, looking at me once, oddly meaningful, and Fili chuckled. “Uncle, I don’t expect Master Boggins’ delicate sensibilities will be bothered so much by this story that he runs off on us. After all, it could be Nori telling one of his stories, and you know the awful sorts of things he gets up to.” There was bright pleasure in his voice, kind and teasing, and Nori offered only a rude gesture in response that made the others, again excluding Thorin, break into uproarious laughter.

                “Try to keep it as tame as you’re able,” Thorin murmured, settling again and crossing his arms stiffly, and I tilted my head, wondering for a moment why he’d reacted so and settling in to listen.

                “Once, when I had left the mountain with a scouting party, we travelled to a human village for supplies and I got separated from everyone else. I knew they hadn’t bought bread yet, just as I knew they’d need it, and so I, being the clever dwarf I am, decided to wait for them at the bakery. As soon as I arrived, I caught sight of the prettiest little human woman I’d ever laid eyes upon; she was a bit short, very thin, with just the nicest, curly brown hair you’ve ever seen. Looked rather a lot like Bilbo’s, actually, if a little longer.” The others chuckled a little. Thorin frowned deeply. Fili kept talking, ultimately describing how, by a rather confusing series of coincidences that I didn’t entirely follow, she ended up taking him to her bed, and how he was eventually found there a few hours later when, by equally confusing coincidences, the rest of his scouting party happened upon him.

                I joined the company in their laughter, and he played at being annoyed for a time until finally he threw an arm over my shoulder and grinned at his uncle.

                “What?” Thorin finally asked, voice low and perhaps a bit harsh, and Fili laughed again.

                “See? He laughs at my humiliation just like the rest of them! Perhaps he’s even got a right to; I’m sure you’ve never suffered through such a humiliating thing, eh, Bilbo? No pretty little hobbit lass waiting for you at home, after all.” My lips twitched, a memory coming to mind easily when I had, in fact, suffered similar humiliation, and I shook my head.

                “Afraid I have, actually, a few times. I believe I had quite the reputation when I was a lad, to tell the truth; nearly gave my poor father a heart attack more than once, and my mother couldn’t have been prouder!” Silence fell over them suddenly; even Thorin set to staring at me, before Fili clapped me on the shoulder and howled out his laughter, wild and free and loose, and the rest of the company joined in.

                “Oh, I’ve just got to hear that one, Bilbo! What, did you stare in each other’s eyes too long before you kissed each other under that big tree in the middle of town?” I let out another laugh myself at the teasing and shook my head, crossing my arms and thinking carefully about the best way to go about telling the story.

                “No, no. First of all, it was a lad, not a lass; I wasn’t with lasses near as often, you see, not unless we were very good friends already. Secondly, I certainly would never kiss a random hobbit beneath the party tree! Couples only do that on their wedding day!” Another quick spell of silence, but they came back from this one quickly as Kili fell into a coughing fit.

                “A lad?” he finally managed, and I blinked, nodding slowly.

                “Well, yes. Most of the lasses I knew were from very high families like my own, and it was considered very improper for them to partake in a quick tumble; I was one of the few who ignored that, the Took in me and all. I was fonder of lads anyway, though; my first was a very nice boy, one of my best friends. Still one of my best friends, actually. I introduced him to his wife, you see.” Obviously they found that strange, though why I didn’t know; perhaps things were different with dwarves.

                “You… weren’t courting when you bedded him?” someone, I believe Kili again, asked, voice high, and I blinked.

                “No? That’s where my story comes in, actually. The night itself was pleasant enough, if a bit clumsy, and I ached after, but I awoke alone and didn’t catch sight of him for weeks. It seemed I had to ask every hobbit in the Shire before I finally found one willing to tell me where he was hiding, and it hours passed before I was able to coax him from our friend’s pantry! Apparently the poor boy had entirely forgotten that I was a Baggins before we went to bed together, and once he recalled it, he had thought that I expected him to court me, of all things! One simply can’t imagine the relief on his face when I told him I expected nothing of the sort; why, a hobbit might’ve grown offended!” I chuckled to myself at the memories. A few others managed weak chuckles as well, and a glance at Thorin told me quickly why the mood had darkened so suddenly; his face was angry, cold in a way that it hadn’t been since before the Carrock, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that I feared he’d chip his teeth.

                “I’d known you dressed like a harlot, Halfling, but I hadn’t thought you truly _were_ one,” he hissed, and I gaped.

                “Why, I never-!” I tried, but he only laughed, bitter and perhaps a bit cruel.

                “Don’t pretend at offense. Only look at yourself; for all you go on about propriety, I’ve seen ladies in brothels with more decency.” He stood with the words, half-glaring down at me, and strode from the camp as if possessed. I stared after him. No one else spoke.

                “Might anyone tell me what that was about?” I finally asked, and the dwarves set to squirming, eyes turned down. I sighed, more confused than truly angry as it was quite simple to see that whatever was going on was likely simply some sort of cultural misunderstanding. Finally, Bofur managed to force out the words everyone else was obviously thinking.

                “You dress very… lightly,” he finally said. “Dwarves do not… wear such things, expose so much. It isn’t proper.” I glanced down at myself, blinking slowly, wondering how what I wore could possibly be viewed as baring too much until I actually looked at the dwarves. Most of them, I could see no more skin than their faces and their hands; compared to that, I supposed I did look quite scandalous indeed. Fili nodded.

                “Yes, I expect Kili nearly fainted when we saw our first hobbit, running about all barefooted with pants up to his knees and collar open so wide. He did fall from his horse when he saw the first hobbit lass,” he said, gesturing rather crudely around his chest and grinning like a fool. His brother punched him harshly, face turning pale pink, and I laughed.

                “I suppose it would’ve been a shock. You know you could’ve asked me to dress a bit heavier; I wouldn’t have minded. All I’d have not done is wear shoes,” I said, wriggling my toes to punctuate the statement, and Nori grinned. I half-wished an excuse to run at that; Nori grinning was very rarely a good thing.

                “That’s alright; been nice, having something pretty to look at all this way. Wouldn’t dream of asking you to cover up now.” A few other dwarves nodded in agreement, and I felt a bit like crawling into a hole somewhere for a time. Balin, at least, took pity on me, sparing glares to the rest of the Company and patting my shoulder.

                “Don’t worry over it, Bilbo. Most of us have lived among men for some time; we’ve gotten used to it, as plenty of them clothe themselves even less than you. Thorin is only… he has perhaps lived in more human cities than any of us, but he’s a bit of a traditionalist. I imagine the real thing that’s upset him isn’t so much the dress as the actions,” he said, thoughtful, and I tilted my head.

                “My apologies if I’ve offended. After Fili’s story, I’d thought you all had no trouble with it.” Fili grinned, edging into the seat his uncle had left and tossing an arm over my shoulder.

“ _I_ don’t have any trouble with it,” he said, pushing his hair back from his face, “But I am young and things have changed and there is a slight chance that the ultimate result of that little transgression was a month spent in my bedroom with nothing to do but, as Uncle put it, think on how inappropriate my actions had been.” Dori nodded.

                “They were inappropriate, Fili. You see, Bilbo, dwarves are only meant to go to bed with the one they’re meant for. As Fili said, it has changed some, more for the lower families than nobility, but overall, most wait. Most dwarves are very… jealous as well, so the idea that one who we took to bed had gone to bed with another later or before would trouble a lot of us. That you went to bed with someone without even the slightest consideration of courting… well, it’s odd, for us, to consider that.” I’m nearly certain that I flushed myself, at that; cultural misunderstanding indeed! Most of them chuckled a little at my expression, Gloin more heartily than the others.

                “I expect it’s because you hobbits obviously have no worries over producing children. There are not as many dwarven women as men, so we do not simply go about taking them to bed without thought; it’s how we keep enough little dwarflings running about,” he said, and I gave a thoughtful little nod, crossing my legs.

                “As you said, we hobbits have no trouble with that. The lasses I did share a quick tumble with all had some concoction of herbs they took to keep from becoming with child when they didn’t intend to do so. We’ve no issue with jealousy either, normally; some, I suppose, were, but most cared little, and I certainly never cared at all. Still, I suppose compared to some hobbits I was with very few; I only went to bed with my friends so as to avoid any misunderstandings. There were some who might’ve gone to bed with me only for Bag End, after all.” Fili looked as if he understood that sentiment very well, nodding gently.

                “I’ve faced similar troubles, being the crown prince. Kili has as well, though not as much as I, and he’s avoided much of the hassle simply by taking no lovers.” The younger prince gritted his teeth and flushed again, this time hitting his brother over the head instead of settling for his arm.

                “Shut up,” he grumbled, and Fili only laughed.

                “I doubt the hobbit cares about your romantic history, or lack thereof, Kili,” he said, and Kili crossed his arms, looking down and away.

                “You don’t have to talk like you’re such an expert, Fili. Three people doesn’t make you a master.”

                “Three times more the master than you, brother dear. I imagine our hobbit has all of us beaten, though, don’t you? Come, come, how many were you with?” I blinked. All the dwarves crowded closer, curiosity bright in their eyes. A sudden realization struck me, though truly it seemed rather unbelievable.

                “Did you hold the record before, Fili?” I asked, and once again a few flushes scattered through the crowd of them as they nodded.

                “Fili’s the only unmarried one amongst us who’s been with anyone, beyond Nori, and he’s… well, he’s Nori,” Bofur said, not, at least, looking particularly embarrassed about that, and I nodded, thinking back to my time as a lad and trying to recall all with whom I’d shared a bed.

                “Perhaps ten, I suppose; most I was with more than once, though.” Even Fili gaped at that, and I tilted my head.

                “Don’t tell me I’ve offended again!” He cleared his throat.

                “No, no. I was the one who asked, after all. Only… how so many, and not one you thought of courting?” he asked, and I smiled, faint, reminiscing a bit.

                “Oh, there were some I courted, one longer than others. I liked him rather a lot; he was a Brandybuck, you see, complimented the Took in me. We’d dance together at every party and spent nigh on every holiday traipsing between our respective homes, and nearly every wedding I attended had the bride trying to toss her bouquet to me to say I’d be the next one married.” I supposed, at least, that they’d gotten used to the idea of me preferring lads to lasses; they didn’t even look confused as that anymore. Perhaps it wasn’t uncommon amongst dwarves either, given that, as Gloin had said, they had far more men than women.

                “Why didn’t you wed him?” Kili asked, fingers fiddling with a lock of his hair, and I smiled.

                “He found another,” I said, shrugging, and both the brothers frowned.

                “Now, who could he possibly find better than you?” Fili asked, yanking lightly at my hair, and Kili nodded in agreement, edging over to crowd my other side. My lips twitched up, eyes crinkling, and shook my head.

                “I’m far from the best hobbit in the Shire, you know. In any case, she was a very pretty girl; she lived in Bree as well, and her family were one of the few who traded goods from the Shire with the men who lived there. I knew her in passing, if not very well. I imagine they’re quite happy together still; he took to a life of trading well. In any case, there were no hard feelings between us, I assure you; we ended the courtship quite amicably.” Fili shook his head.

                “No excuse! He surely didn’t know what a treasure he held,” he said, voice dramatic. “One far greater than any trader girl! Why, you’ve hair of spun gold and eyes of amber, and your loyalty is as unwavering as stone while your heart is as stalwart as the earth itself. Not to mention you’ve got a truly glorious ass.” I, along with all the dwarves, excepting, oddly, Kili, laughed loudly, and a few clapped him on the back.

                “There’s our silver-tongued Fili,” Bofur said, eyes glittering. “That’s how he’s managed to share as many beds as he has, you see; it obviously isn’t his looks.” Fili scoffed.

                “You’re only jealous that, given a few years, my beard shall surpass yours by miles,” he said, stroking what he already had, and Bofur only rolled his eyes.

                “Keep believing that, oh great prince.” And so they set to bickering, the other dwarves, again, oddly, barring Kili, joined in, teasing and laughing and overall simply having a fine time. I edged away, a little, letting them enjoy themselves, and Kili followed. I tilted my head at him. He squirmed nervously.

                “Are you alright?” I asked him, and he nodded, shaggy hair flipping around his face.

                “I’m fine,” he said, a little too quickly. “I only… Bilbo, would you… with me?” I barely managed to make out what he said, the words were said so quickly, and for a moment, I thought I’d certainly misheard.

                “Surely you don’t mean what I think,” I said, and he looked away, a certain sadness etching itself across his expression.

                “I know I wouldn’t be your first choice,” he whispered, soft and perhaps a little embarrassed. “I only… I’ll probably never get the chance to find whoever I’m meant for, you know? And I don’t want to die knowing that Fili can still hold… you know, over my head. You… I like you, Bilbo, and you know what you’re doing. Please?” Oh, dear. I smiled, faintly, reaching out and settling my hand over his, and he startled a little, dark eyes going wide.

                “Kili, I can promise that you’re far from unattractive; going to bed with you would be anything but a chore. Sleeping with someone is an awful thing to regret, however; you shouldn’t do it unless you’re certain. Think on it; if you truly want me, then you’ll have me the next time you ask.” His face lit up as if I’d just offered him all of middle-earth, and I couldn’t resist a little light of my own at the sight as he nodded and bounced back towards the others, easily engaging in the silly fussing between them as if he’d been there the whole while. All in all, I supposed I couldn’t truly have expected a better night.

* * *

 

                I don’t know precisely when Thorin came back the previous evening, as I went to sleep before he did, but the next morning, he did take me aside, looking, oddly enough, rather guilty.

                “I should not have said what I did last night,” he said, slow, careful, as if trying desperately to find the right way to word what he wanted to say. “It was… well, I am certain that someone explained how the way hobbits go about things is different from the way dwarves do; I do not say that to excuse what I said, of course, only to explain why I said it. It surprised me, however much it shouldn’t have after all my time spent with human men.” I offered a faint smile, shaking my head.

                “Don’t worry yourself over it, Thorin; I’m not bothered. Truly I’m more surprised that that has seemed to be the only true conflict we’ve had caused by how different our cultures are.” He nodded, oddly fast, as if afraid that I’d rescind my forgiveness if he didn’t close the matter quickly enough.

                “Still, I have done naught but treat you poorly all through this quest, and even now that I see you so clearly as belonging amongst us, I’ve still said something so terrible. I only ask… do not doubt that I respect you, Bilbo Baggins; obviously my foot winds up in my mouth more often than not.” The laugh slipped freely from my mouth and I reached up, squeezing his shoulder once before I dropped it and stepped away.

                “I say again, don’t worry over it. Still, if it’ll make you feel any better about hobbits, most of that stops when we come of age and decide who we truly wish to court.” He managed to turn his lips up a bit at the corners, shaking his head.

                “I only wonder how you all deal with it, knowing the one you lay with has lain with others.”

                “Dori mentioned something similar. Truly it isn’t much trouble with hobbits, though; I was with but one who had a jealous streak, and the moment I noticed it I never lay with him again. Painted my roses, he did; I could’ve knocked him about the head but good for that!”

                “I suppose you refused to court him?” he asked, and I let my brows drift up.

                “He never asked me. I liked him well enough before that; I might’ve considered it if he’d only asked instead of simply expressing his displeasure that he was not the only hobbit in my life by destroying my prized roses.” He tilted his head so slightly to one side that I’d not have noticed he’d even done it if not for the slightest sway of his braids, sitting upon a log and gesturing that I join him, which I did.

                “Is that why you’ve a poor opinion on courting?” I laughed.

                “What in the world gave you the idea that I’ve anything against courting? I’ve been a part of a few and quite enjoyed them all even if none ended in a wedding.” He glanced away, something odd on his face.

                “It only seems strange. Surely you must have loved at least one of them?” Again, fond memories overwhelmed me, a certain warmth flooding me from my heart out to my skin.

                “I loved all of them, some more than others. Still love them; it simply isn’t a romantic sort of love now, just as it turned out not to be then. Whenever I shared a courtship it was only because I and the other person thought that there might be more than a bit of fun between us; when it was proved that we were better friends than lovers, we would part.” He glanced back at me again, for a moment, nodding, and then looked away again.

                “Another difference. Dwarves love another but once, and nevermore should tragedy strike. That is why my sister has never taken another, though she could have easily married again if she chose to do so when Fili and Kili’s father died.”

                “I envy that, in a way; it must be nice, knowing so clearly when you’re with the person you’re meant to be with. Still, I couldn’t imagine the pain of that sort of loss; your sister seems an amazing woman,” I said, quiet, and he chuckled, nodding.

                “Indeed, she is. I never much cared for her husband, you know; when they were courting, I tried all I might to keep them from marrying. She was remarkably tolerant with me; I’ve only two scars from those days, and both so small as to barely be seen. I thought her too good for him, but then, I suppose I thought her too good for anybody; had I my way, I expect she’d have never married anyone. He made her very happy, though, and I’m actually quite glad that she ignored me now. I’ve heard men say that it is better to love and lose than to never love at all; I imagine that’s true.” I did as well, and told him so. He offered another wan smile, clapping me on the back and drawing himself again to his feet. “I’m glad you agree. Be well; perhaps we’ll talk again later.” And with that he wandered off, going to do whatever it was that leading this company entailed.

                For myself, I wandered back towards the fire pit and settled around it with the others, involving myself in conversation with them and grabbing a plate of food. It all felt easy and friendly, as if I belonged there, something I hadn’t ever truly felt, however happy I’d been in the Shire. I smiled at them, laughing at whatever joke it was they told and offering a few of my own. Truly all that troubled me was the way Kili looked at me, nervous and unsure yet determined despite that.

                When we started riding again after the morning meal, he rode beside me, face tilted up towards the sky, towards Erebor, while Fili and Thorin led the group with similar gazes. I smiled over at him, and a little pinkness tinged his cheeks again but he smiled back all the same.

                “We’re very close now, aren’t we?” I asked, and he nodded.

                “Still a long way to go, though, and we’ve got to go through Mirkwood. This is the part Uncle’s been dreading all this time, I think.” I couldn’t hold back a little chuckle, quick and sudden.

                “Only that?”

                “That more than anything else.” I understood that, at least; I’d heard stories of the dangers of Mirkwood, of how many had been lost in its depths, and the fact that Thranduil ruled the place likely only made it worse for Thorin, given what I knew of their history. Really I only hoped that we could enter and leave quickly and without notice, but then I’d learned well enough that simplicity was rarely written in our cards. Silence fell over us for a few minutes, until again he drew my attention back to him. “Hey, Bilbo?”

                “Yes?”

                “I still want to try with you. Will you come with me tonight?”

                “Kili, it’s only been a night. You can’t say you’ve truly thought on it in that amount of time,” I said, and he only shook his head.

                “I have; I know what I want, Bilbo, and I want to do this. If you don’t, I won’t force you, but I’m only doing what you said.” The earnest look on his face was what truly got me, I think; I nodded, once, quick and easy.

                “Alright. Wait until everyone’s gone to sleep tonight and then come find me. We’ll see about finding somewhere safe enough when we stop.” Honestly I don’t imagine he could’ve looked more pleased if I really did offer him all of middle earth. I couldn’t resist a little pleasure at making him so happy, either, and really I didn’t see where it could cause too much harm, so with that, conversation turned to more mundane things, sometimes involving the rest of the Company and sometimes not, until night began to fall and we set up camp once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I promise this won't be the only thing updated today; I'll try my hardest to finish up the Gold Sick chapter and get it up too.

                Kili’s excitement was precisely as obvious as Fili’s suspicion. The elder brother stared at him most of the day, especially after he left for a few hours to find a safe place for the night, offering curious looks requesting answers, but Kili never did, only grinning faintly over at me periodically as he waited for the others to go to sleep. Finally, he ended up dragging him aside, arms crossed, and Kili grinned even wider when he actually asked him what he was so thrilled over.  

                “Kili, not that I find you grinning like the idiot you are very strange, but the others might, in fact, think you’re up to something. Again, not to say you aren’t, I would never do such a thing, but I’d suggest being a bit less obvious about it.”

                “I’m not up to anything, Fili. Can’t I just be happy for an evening, brother of mine?” he said, laughter in his tone, and Fili only shook his head.

                “Of course. I’d just suggest having a reason for it. Today hasn’t been any different from any other; a little worse, actually, given how rough the road was.” Kili shrugged.

                “I’ll tell you why later, Fili, but today I’m just very, very happy. Can you cover for me tonight, if anyone wakes up and finds me gone?”

                “Depends. Are you going to do something stupid?”

                “Maybe, depending on who you ask. It won’t be dangerous, though.” Fili sighed.

                “Who am I to stop you prancing through the flower fields? You know I’ll cover for you, I always have just like you always have for me. I will expect the story eventually, though.” I was quite certain that if someone woke to find Kili gone, it wouldn’t be long before they noticed my absence as well, and though Fili might try to hide it periodically, I knew he was easily smart enough to figure out what was going on from that point.

                “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I’m leaving during your watch, okay? And don’t laugh, otherwise it probably won’t work, and you’ll have singlehandedly ruined your beloved brother’s life.” I hid my own laugh under a cough; Kili’s bright eyes flashed over to me for a second, amused. Fili looked faintly more suspicious, but nodded anyway.

                “Just try not to be so obvious about your… joy. You know how Uncle gets when other people aren’t as brooding as he is.” Kili nodded as if it were sage advice rather than a joke, and perhaps in some ways it was; Thorin had been looking almost as suspicious as Fili at Kili’s sudden, cat-with-cream pleasure. Still, it didn’t stop them all from eventually falling asleep, nor did it stop Fili from taking his watch while Kili bounced over to my bedroll and shook me into wakefulness.

                “Come on,” he whispered, and I nodded, pulling myself to my feet and following after him. Fili gaped as we walked by, but didn’t laugh, at least, and didn’t try to stop us from leaving. He did slap Kili on the back, though, which was a bit uncomfortable, but I supposed I could live with that. We walked farther than I would’ve thought we would, into a small thatch of trees, and though in the Shire that might’ve worried me, then, with only the dwarves anywhere near and Fili with his promise to cover for at least Kili should anyone wake, I actually felt quite safe. I imagine I should’ve seen how little Kili knew what to expect before that moment.

                He shifted from foot to foot, leaning against one of the trees and sometimes glancing at me, though more often than not, he stared at the ground to one side of me. I smiled faintly, stepping a little nearer but not touching him.

                “You know we don’t have to do this, Kili. I assure you I won’t be offended.” He went wide-eyed, shaking his head, hair flopping over his face.

                “No! No, Bilbo, don’t leave. I want…,” he paused, trying to think of what to say, and I realized that he had absolutely no idea what he wanted or what to expect.

                “Alright. A bit at a time, hm? I wasn’t planning on doing everything tonight anyway; it’s been quite a while for me.”  He nodded, slow and careful, and I settled my hands lightly on his shoulders. He looked lost. “You are allowed to touch me as well, if you like,” I said, and he did, putting his hands on my hips with a jittering, careful motion, as if frightened he’d break me, and I smiled, tilting my head up to kiss his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. His eyes fluttered shut, his hands gripping my hips more tightly and pulling me nearer. I let him move my body where he liked, but he kept his hands resolutely where they were, and I chuckled a little against his mouth. He faltered, though he’d been moving rather well against me before, and pulled away, eyes opening wide and worried.

                “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, quick, frightened, and I shook my head.

                “No, Kili, you’re alright; I wasn’t laughing at you,” I murmured, settling my own hands on his chest, stroking through the layers of fabric, and his head fell back at the touch, letting his eyes close again, and I nipped at the sharp line of his jaw, his beard scraping at my cheek as I moved down to his neck. He whined quietly, still obviously uncertain what he could and couldn’t do, so I stopped, not pulling away but shifting just pointedly enough that he met my gaze. He looked a little dazed, lips parted just slightly, the flush on his cheeks spreading down towards his neck. “Do what you like, alright? Whatever feels good to you. This truly won’t be too terribly much fun if you only stand there stiff as a board the whole while.” He nodded, careful, but still didn’t seem certain. I sighed. He squirmed, pressing his hips against my belly and hissing at the friction.

                “I only… I don’t want to hurt you, if I squeeze too hard or something,” he mumbled, and I laughed again.

                “Don’t worry about that, Kili, I promise I’ve been bruised before, and I’ll tell you if you do something that hurts or that I don’t enjoy. Do the same for me, hm? Not everyone enjoys the same things.” He nodded, breathless, and I went back to his neck, nuzzling and sometimes sucking more than anything else, and his hands finally started to roam, one settling on my ass and the other curling tightly into my hair. For myself, I started working at his clothes, trying to find how they could be removed, and eventually he realized what I was trying and decided to help.

                “Step back a little,” he whispered, sounding like the words hurt, “My jacket, I can’t reach the clasp.” I did as he asked and watched him fumble with it, fingers normally so deft gone clumsy and careless, and I shrugged off my own jacket and shirt with an ease he looked envious of for a moment until he finally managed his own. I traced my fingers and my lips over the newly bared skin, hard, wiry muscle shifting under my touch, and I was for a moment conscious of my own far softer figure until I noted how little he seemed to care. He pressed his hips rhythmically against my stomach, now, not seeming to realize he was doing it, and I decided finally what to try as he tried to catch my lips for another kiss. I gave it to him, quicker this time, deep and a bit messy and certainly not practiced, before I pulled away and shifted down to my knees. He stared at me, panting and flushed, dark eyes shining bright with lust. I smiled up at him, reaching out and running my hands over his clothed thighs. His legs nearly buckled and he fell back against the tree, clutching at it to keep himself upright.

                “Still alright?” I asked him, edging closer, my fingers growing ever-nearer to the bulge in his breeches, and he nodded.

                “Yes, Bilbo, yes, please,” he hissed, grabbing at my shoulders, and I nodded, settling my mouth over his clothed dick, letting my breath spill over him, and he groaned, hands moving immediately up to my hair again as he jerked towards the warmth. I tried to move away so I could untie the breeches themselves but he wouldn’t let me, pulling my hair to keep me where I was, rutting towards my mouth and my whining at the press of my tongue even through clothes.

                “I’m not trying to move, only to get these off,” I said, tugging at the loose fabric near his calves, and the words made him jolt, as if surprised that I was willing to do such a thing, but he obviously had no trouble with it, given the speed at which he let me go to do it. Those, at least, were easier to get off, more familiar, though I left them around his ankles rather than try to deal with his boots, which from so close looked even more alien and impossible to remove than ever. Admittedly, though, I was a bit intimidated at the sight of his cock; it was larger than a hobbit’s, and I wondered for a moment if I’d been thinking too hastily when I decided to try this. I shook my head once, hopefully too faint for Kili to see, and edged closer again; I most definitely wanted to try, I decided, curling my hand around the base of him and slowly, very slowly, taking the tip into my mouth.

                Kili positively howled, hands finding my hair again with lightning speed and trying to thrust into my mouth, but I moved my hands to his shaking thighs and held him back as best as I was able, taking more carefully, a bit at a time, licking and sucking how I remembered most I’d been with enjoyed. I glanced up at him; his eyes were closed again, clenched tight, and his face was more flushed than ever, the color having spread down his neck and part of his chest, and I felt his hands trembling in my hair. His mouth was open, moving around a word I didn’t recognize over and over again, thoughtless, lost in sensation, and I wished suddenly that I could take myself in hand.

                I took him as deeply as I was able, moaning around him and swallowing periodically, and I did not expect he would last long, given the way he shivered and jerked, but when he came, it was still a bit of a shock and I did almost choke.

                “Ghivashel,” he cried, the word he’d been mouthing, “Ghivashel!” He hunched over me, pulling my hair hard enough to hurt but likely not doing it on purpose, and I worked him through it, not pulling away until he slumped boneless against the tree. He took in deep, heaving breaths as I leaned back, palming myself, and watched me with open admiration, satiety in every line of him. Admittedly, once I slid myself from my own breeches, I didn’t last very long either, though I did at least have enough sense about me to make certain my clothes stayed clean.

                We simply sat there for a while, the both of us catching our breath, until suddenly he grinned so widely that his cheeks had to ache with it. He rushed forwards, catching me in his arms and pulling me tight to him, nuzzling my neck and pressing sweet kisses wherever he could manage. I laughed a little, wriggling in his hold, until at last he stepped away, still grinning.

                “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” I said, and truly I was. I hadn’t been lying when I’d said it had been some time since I’d been with anyone, and I hadn’t been certain I still knew enough to please someone. He looked faintly surprised.

                “I don’t see how you could’ve doubted I would,” he said, reaching out and taking my hand, and I tilted my head.

                “I suppose I’ve never had any complaints before, but before was many years ago, and such skills, I’m sure, can fade some with disuse. He took on a faintly pleased look for a moment, oddly like Thorin, until it faded and he nodded.

                “Was I too terrible?” he asked, the teasing edge fading some to be replaced by a trace of fear.

                “Certainly not! I had rather a good time. Even still, I expect we ought to be getting back; Fili’s watch will end eventually, you know.” He nodded, dropping my hand and looking around to find his clothes while I did the same.

                “I’d… like to talk to you tomorrow, by the way,” he eventually said after a few minutes of silence, shrugging his shirt back on. I blinked, picking up my jacket and putting it over my arm.

                “Of course, Kili. Ah, and may I ask who Ghivashel is? If it’s too personal, don’t worry over answering; I’m only curious.” He blinked, pausing where he stood so I could move to walk back beside him, and then started laughing, wild and open and free.

                “Ghivashel isn’t a name, Bilbo,” he said, eyes glittering.

                “What is it, then? I assume something in Khudzul?” If it was, I didn’t expect an answer; Khudzul was the language of dwarves and only dwarves, generally, and very few outsiders knew more than a couple of words simply because dwarves guarded the language so fiercely. He nodded.

                “It is. I don’t think there’s really an easy way to say it in Westron, though. That is why I want to talk to you tomorrow, though. Can you… can we do this again, later? Please?” I chuckled, nodding.

                “We can. We should probably wait a bit, though. I expect that this is something I’d truly prefer not explaining to Thorin, given how upset he’d be over it.” Kili nodded.

                “That’s probably a good idea. I don’t exactly want to die yet,” he said, and I laughed.

                “I can’t help but feel as if I’d be the one he’d go after, Kili,” I answered, and he shrugged.

                “Maybe, maybe not. Depends on which one of us he thinks started it, and even then he might just go for me out of principle.” I shook my head but decided not to argue further as the camp was in sight. Fili grinned at us when we returned, taking his brother by the shoulder and pulling him down beside him whilst I went on back to my bedroll, honestly too tired to care if Kili spoke with Fili about what we’d done, though I suppose some of that was also because I knew Fili wouldn’t tell anyone who’d truly care. I expect only a bare few minutes passed before I fell into a deep, restful sleep.

* * *

 

Kili’s POV

                I should’ve figured Fili wouldn’t just let me go quietly to bed, but then I probably wasn’t thinking too clearly by then. I mean, I’d known it would be good, but I hadn’t thought… well, I hadn’t thought that Bilbo was mine, when I’d asked. I squirmed under his gaze. He raised an eyebrow, mouth twitching into a smirk.

                “So? Did you embarrass yourself too much?” he asked, and I knocked against him with my shoulder because he looked so smug.

                “No. He said he had fun too,” I said, not realizing until I said it how defensive that sounded, and he laughed, shaking his head.

                “Alright, I won’t crush your pride yet. What’d you do?” he asked, curiosity alight in his eyes, and I let my eyes flash over to Bilbo, already sleeping soundly in his bedroll. I smiled without really meaning to the moment I saw him. He really was beautiful, I’d always thought so, and he was so clever, so kind… I wondered how I hadn’t noticed it sooner, how I felt for him, how he made my heart sing. I wondered how he hadn’t had every hobbit in the Shire hanging on him like beads on a braid. He certainly deserved it, after all, deserved more than just a tumble with a friend who would wed another. Fili punched my arm until I realized that he’d asked a question I’d never answered, and one I wasn’t entirely sure _how_ to answer.

                “We kissed, first. He’s got such pretty lips, don’t you think? I could’ve done that all night and been happy, I think. He also...,” I gestured vaguely around my hips. Fili only looked confused. “With his mouth,” I tried again, and he bit back laughter.

                “He sucked you off?” I nodded once, surely changing colors again, and he looked thoughtful for a moment. “I bet he’s good at it. Nori’s told me that that can be just as good as going all the way if the person doing it is good at it. I wouldn’t know, though. The baker’s daughter only tried to take too much and bit me and I was too scared to ask either of the other two I was with for fear they’d do worse. Think he’d be willing to try a real dwarf next?” he asked, and I knew he was only teasing me, making fun like we always did, but all of a sudden, actual anger struck me, and for only the second time in my life, I hit my brother with all my strength. He gaped, clutching his jaw and staring at me, spitting blood on the ground.

                “You can’t have him,” I said, voice lower than I’d ever heard it, and he held out his hands peaceably, shaking his head.

                “I was only joking, Kili, you know I’ve already started courting Saril back home. She’s the only one who’ll ever wear my bead, I’m too much in love to lay with another no matter how pretty they are.” I did know that; I’d teased him for weeks for settling down with someone so soon. She’d come to dinner at our house more than once, answering my mocking of her with mocking of her own. I’d _liked_ Saril, liked the idea of her being with my brother. She’d hit him hard enough that he saw stars when we told her we were leaving on this quest, made him swear he’d come back whole and alive. He loved her enough to do it, and even if he looked at others besides her, I knew he didn’t touch because he couldn’t stand the idea of betraying her just as I knew he’d never meet someone he thought could hold a candle to her beauty. I still felt angry, though, a cold, bitter sort of anger that only increased when I remembered that Fili and I certainly weren’t the only ones who’d ever noticed how pretty he was. He had at least ten hobbits back in the Shire who had, after all, ten who’d been brave enough to act on it, and I knew the rest of the company hadn’t been immune to his charm.

                “I don’t care,” I hissed, “Just don’t say that.” He at least looked like he understood, relaxing minutely and wiping the rest of the blood from his face.

                “Kili, are you… is he your one?” he asked, and I nodded.

                “He is,” I answered, looking over at him again and being struck once more by how much I felt for him.

                “Are you sure? You have to be absolutely certain because if he isn’t and we try this it won’t work out well for anyone. If it’s only passion, some crush because he was your first, then we will just let it lie until it fades.” There was something frantic in his voice, and I didn’t smile like I might’ve any other time.

                “I’m sure, Fili. You never thought the baker girl was your one, did you? It’s more than that for me, I feel it. When I finished, I even… I wasn’t thinking and I called him ghivashel. My ghivashel.” It sounded right, saying it aloud again, looking at him. He was my one, my ghivashel; there was no denying it, no doubt. Fili ran his hand through his hair, worry mounting.

                “I believe you. Damn it, this isn’t good. You know it won’t be accepted, right? One or not, he’s not a dwarf, and he can’t bear a child.” I frowned.

                “I’m not the heir to the throne, Fili, you are. It doesn’t matter if I ever have children or not, just like it doesn’t matter if I do things the proper dwarven way or not.” He shook his head, looking pained.

                “You’re still a prince, Kili. What if something happens to me, or I don’t ever have children? The line of Durin can’t just stop, you know that.”

                “And you know what Bilbo’s done for us, how brave he is and how smart. You know that we’d have failed already if not for him. You know everyone else will recognize that too when we get Erebor back. They’ll see that he’s the reason why they have their kingdom, and if that doesn’t make him worthy of marriage then nobody’s worthy of it. There are plenty of people around with Durin’s blood. I don’t have to have a child. I don’t need much help, Fili, just for you to distract Uncle for long enough that I can speak with him and start courting.” I knew I had him the moment I said it. He looked a little annoyed, still, a little worried, but he nodded.

                “Alright. What’s your first gift going to be? You don’t have any beads, so you can’t do that, but you must have _something_ to give.” I nodded; I’d thought about this often, about meeting the person I was destined for. I slid my lucky stone from my pocket, the one my other had given me, and Fili stared. “You’d give that already?”

                “I don’t have anything worth any money to give him, Fili. The best I can do is something worth a lot in my heart.” Fili shook his head.

                “Don’t give him that yet. Mention how important to you it is a few times, maybe show it to him, but don’t give it to him yet. If he already knows and has had time to understand what that is to you, then when you do give it to him, it’ll help him understand more what _he_ is to you, that you’re willing to entrust it to him. You can’t give your chain yet either, obviously. Maybe… oh, what about one of your daggers? The pretty one that you don’t use?” I grinned, nodding, looking to my pack where I kept that particular knife. I’d never even brought it out after leaving on this quest, since I’d been half-afraid Nori would steal it for the gems in the hilt. It had been a coming of age gift from Uncle, and I always carried it; it meant much to me, if not quite as much as my charm. It even had enough money value to be a princely gift, which would probably help me make courting him as legitimate as possible.

                “That’s perfect! Thank you, Fili!” I said, and he rolled his eyes.

                “I know, I know. Where ever would you be without me, brother?” I snorted.

                “Future king of Erebor, I think. Not that I want to be king, but still.” He laughed into his hand, shrugging.

                “Even more reason to be grateful. Now, did you tell him what ghivashel meant? I’m sure he asked.”

                “I didn’t know how to explain it. Westron isn’t good for words like that, you know that.” He nodded, looking faintly pained; I remember he’d had a few experiences with that too, when he tried to flirt with human girls. He hadn’t called them ghivashel, obviously, or anything particularly meaningful, but he had called them a few things that didn’t translate and they’d thought he was insulting them.

                “You can say that it’s something like the greatest treasure. The treasure of all treasures.” It was close, I guessed, or at least close enough that he’d understand what I meant when I said it. I nodded.

                “Okay. I’ll go ahead and take the next watch, and you can go to bed. I need to think of what to say tomorrow,” I said, voice light and hopefully hiding how nervous I was. Fili nodded.

                “Just don’t embarrass yourself too much, otherwise you’ll be a disgrace to the family name. Oh, and don’t worry too much about hitting me. I almost did the same thing to you one day when Saril mentioned that she thought you were cute too. Probably would’ve done it if not for her saying right afterwards that she thought it was the same kind of cute as a really stupid, slobbering puppy who wants someone to scratch it’s ears.” He dodged the first small rock I tossed at him and lay down in his bedroll where he was unable to dodge the second. He called me something not fit to be repeated in Khudzul, and I called him something worse. All was right with the world again.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll be leaving town tomorrow, but since I wanted you guys to have a chapter this week, I decided to go ahead and post it now. Hope you all enjoy!

Bilbo’s POV

                When I awoke the next morning, I knew right away that Fili or Kili or both were planning something, for Fili was very aptly keeping Thorin’s attention away from his brother. I sighed; a few of the other dwarves were glancing at them with equal wariness, having surely noticed the same thing that I had. So, yes, I most definitely expected something to happen, but I didn’t expect Kili to drag me aside perhaps a half hour before we were set to leave again, expression perhaps even more nervous than it had been the night before, hands clutching desperately at something behind his back. I offered him a smile, hoping to settle him down some, but it only seemed to make him flush and squirm, eyes staying fixed on the ground just beside me.

                “Kili, I know you said you wished to talk to me today, but surely you didn’t have to distract Thorin for that; we’ve spoken privately before without anyone caring, I and all of the company have.” Multiple emotions flickered across his face, annoyance and fear and sadness all there and gone again in an instant.

                “More than talk,” he murmured, holding out the object he’d hidden behind his back and revealing it to be an incredibly ornate dagger, glittering happily in the sun and honed to a deadly edge. “I wanted you to have this; it’s really important to me and it’s worth a lot but it’ll protect you and I don’t want you to get hurt because I care about you a lot,” he said, speaking so quickly that I could scarcely follow the words, flushing even more brilliantly and squirming under my scrutiny. Honestly, I had no idea why in the world he’d offer me such a thing, and I thought to tell him that it was far too much given its obvious value and obvious importance, but the look in his eyes, hopeful and sweet, made the gift impossible to refuse. I took it lightly, very carefully, but it felt solid and strong in my hands even still. I smiled.

                “Thank you, Kili; I’ll treasure it,” I said, and his face lit up with his smile, turning him again into the dwarf I recognized. He darted forward, pressing a quick kiss I barely felt to my lips before he stepped back again.

                “I’m glad, ghivashel,” he whispered, smile turning sweet and private for a moment before he turned and trotted over to his brother, leaving me standing, quite lost, with a dagger in hand and confusion swirling about my mind as I recalled that he’d promised to explain that word, ghivashel, and never had. I had to chuckle to myself at his antics, still likely fonder than I should’ve been over his behavior, and wrapped the blade in an old, thick strip of leather so that I could tuck it safely into my pack. Perhaps, I supposed, I could ask one of the others about it later, but as it stood, it was time to break camp and set off yet again.

* * *

 

                I stopped worrying so much over it when, during the day’s travel, Kili was no different with me than he ever was. We walked together some, of course, but as I said, we always did, and I walked with most of the other dwarves at some point as well. It was only that night, when I decided to go sit alone with the blade for a time as if I could divine its meaning with only a stern enough gaze, when things became strange again.

                Thorin strode up to me with purpose in every line of his body and fierceness in his eyes; I hadn’t seen him look at me that way since the Carrock, and it sent an unwelcome spark of fear thrumming through me. He was actively frowning rather than simply appearing neutral, never a good sign, and when he reached me, he spoke before I could greet him.

                “Where did you get that?” he asked, voice quick, jerking his head at the dagger, and I jolted, wondering if Kili had actually given me something of Thorin’s for some prank, or some other nonsense like that, and hoping only that if he had it wasn’t excessively important and I wouldn’t face the repercussions for it.

                “Kili gave it to me; he was acting rather strangely. Is it yours?” Surprise brightened his face, lips a little parted and brows slightly furrowed, his body going stiff and faintly nervous. Finally, though, he heaved a sigh, running one quick hand through his thick hair, shaking his head, and dropping down beside me.

                “Tell me exactly what he did and what he said if you wouldn’t mind, Master Baggins. I expect he and I will soon be quite in need of a long chat.” Oh, dear. I wondered for a moment what the boy had done, and perhaps whether I ought to try and lie for him before I decided that that would likely only make whatever it was he had done seem even worse, as I didn’t even know his offense.

                “He took me aside this morning, whilst Fili was chatting with you, and told me that he’d like me to have it, for protection and whatnot. He said that it was very important to him as well; should he not have given it to me?” Thorin shook his head, sighing again and looking as if this were the very last thing in the world he wanted to be doing.

                “That depends on much. Did he say anything else to you?” I wondered if I ought to tell him what Kili had called me; he’d surely know what it meant, but I hadn’t the foggiest if mentioning it would make things worse or better for Kili, and I certainly didn’t want to get him in too much trouble if he was only making some harmless joke. He hadn’t seemed as if he were joking, though; the way he’d looked, I’d half-thought he was going to ask for another night with me. That lack of his usual joking attitude, the nerves that had been so obvious in his face and his stance, were what ultimately made my decision to be entirely truthful for me.

                “He called me ghivashel; I haven’t the faintest idea as to what the word means, but I’d imagine it’s important.” The shock on his face deepened, his eyes going wide for the barest of moments before at last the words seemed to settle.

                “Impudent, beardless little pup,” he mumbled, not seeming _angry,_ exactly, but certainly somewhat bothered. “And he told you nothing else?” I shook my head.

                “If he’s done something wrong, don’t trouble him too much over it. After all, he and Fili have certainly made the journey more exciting with their antics. Ah, but I would like to know what that word means, if it wouldn’t trouble you too much; I’ve been curious much of the day.” Thorin actually laughed a bit, still seeming a little bothered, any traces of anything like anger gone.

                “I am not angry so long as this was not some sort of misguided joke; if this is his idea of a joke, then yes, he will be punished to the greatest extent that I’m able, him and Fili both for I’m certain he was involved whether it was a joke or wasn’t. As for the meaning of the word… truly all I can say is that if he spoke truthfully rather than impulsively or dishonestly, then you are his ghivashel, and that is a wonderful thing should you agree to what it entails, though as you aren’t a dwarf that agreement is not a certainty as it would be with us. I’m afraid it’s Kili’s place to offer a more in depth meaning, however.” Well, it was certainly not an ideal answer, and told me little beyond what I already knew, but I could see on Thorin’s face that it was all I’d get out of him so instead I only nodded and watched as he turned and walked away, leaving me with nothing to do but hold my dagger alone again.

* * *

 

Kili’s POV

                I figured out the problem with trying to court Bilbo secretly not even a day after I started: of course Bilbo would look at his gifts, and of course Uncle Thorin would notice him suddenly being in possession of things he certainly hadn’t started the quest with. I didn’t expect I’d get caught on the same day as the first gift was given, though, but then I couldn’t see many other reasons for Thorin to be striding up to me with quite that deadly of a look in his eyes. Still, I decided not to mention it until he did, holding out the hope that he was just angry for something else that I’d done at some point or another.

                “Kili, come here. We must speak,” he said, flat and careful, as if he cared whether or not the others thought he was taking me away for a lecture. I played at confusion even though I knew more and more with each passing moment exactly what it was he wanted to talk about, and followed him agreeably. I caught sight of Bilbo but once out of the corner of my eye, saw him giving us a faintly worried look and felt my heart go warm and soft at the sight.

                We went far from the rest of the company, into an empty place where we would most definitely not be interrupted, and he sat on a log, gesturing for me to sit beside him, frowning stiffly. I did so, asking him what it was he wanted to talk about as if I didn’t know, and the look he gave me told me exactly how clearly he knew what I was doing.

                “Do you love our burglar?” he asked, and I was actually a bit surprised that he spoke so bluntly when normally such matters had him stumbling over his words and trying to find a way to say what he wished to say without actually saying it. “Tell me now, Kili; he is important to all of us and I will not have you hurt him for naught but a foolish joke.”

                “You should know that I wouldn’t do that, Uncle,” I said, but he didn’t respond; he wanted a direct answer, obviously, a yes or a no, or he wouldn’t be satisfied. “I do love him. He’s my One; I just didn’t think you’d approve of it, so I had Fili distract you while I took him aside. He did accept, Uncle, I swear, I would never force anyone into a courtship.” The frown faltered for a split second, as if he were fighting against something like amusement, but he set it quickly and easily back into place.

                “I know that, Kili, I would never accuse you of such. I only find it silly that you’ve assumed that hobbits court as we do. Bilbo hasn’t the faintest idea of what your gestures meant; I’d suggest you go explain and make certain he understands what he is to you, else another might make the attempt in your stead. After all, I’m certain you’ve noticed that others have noticed his charms.” I felt myself go tense, muscles coiled tight all through me until I ached. My mood darkened with the words, light though they were, and even knowing that he meant nothing more by it than what he’d said. Visions of the embrace they’d shared on the Carrock flashed through my mind, insisting that it had gone on a moment too long to be friendly, that his hands had wandered more than was necessary, that Bilbo fit far too nicely against his far larger frame, that of course if anyone was given the choice between a beardless prince who’d never have the throne and a noble king, none would ever pick the prince. My stomach roiled angrily, fists clenching with suppressed desire to show my displeasure in a more physical way.

                “I have, but don’t dare think that I would be unwilling to fight for him, Uncle, no matter who it was that needed to be fought.” He finally found himself unable to maintain his frown, laughing faintly and shaking his head.

                “Bilbo Baggins is my friend, Kili, one of my very best, and an integral part of my company. I esteem him greatly, and I wished only to be certain that you courted him seriously. As I am certain that you do, then I am glad of your choice; I could think of no one more worthy for either of you, so long as you court him properly, for you must know that he yet deserves respect despite how differently things are done in his Shire.” Oh. I felt myself flush, dark and burning, my Uncle trying his best to look serious again and not entirely managing. That, at least, was good; it had been a long time since he’d been able to look so happy, like he had so many years before when Fili and I were hardly dwarflings. Still, I wasn’t happy that it was my own stupid misstep that brought it about.

                “Of course, Uncle; you can follow my every step if you want. I wouldn’t do anything to risk someone calling the courtship invalid, I couldn’t handle it. Do you mind if I find him now, before he tries to ask someone else about what’s wrong with me and the whole company finds out what’s going on?” He chuckled, warm and low, and waved me off with a nod. Mother likely would’ve scolded me for hours for the rudeness, but the moment I saw the gesture I was gone, nearly flying back to Bilbo and sweeping him off again, making certain to go in the opposite direction of Uncle just so there would be no chance of him accidentally happening upon us.

                “Oh, Kili, Thorin was not too angry with you, was he? I’m afraid I had little choice but to tell him what happened, but he didn’t seem truly upset, and-,” he babbled, as he often seemed to when he was nervous, and I stopped him with the best kiss I could muster even though I knew it wasn’t precisely proper for the first step of the courtship. He flushed, looking shocked but pleased as I pulled away, my hands framing his face.

                “I’m not in any trouble, but he did tell me of the mistake I’ve made. I don’t think you understood what I… why I gave you that gift.” I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly fearful again, as I had that morning, knowing that I would have to confess what I felt again, knowing that Bilbo would have another chance to refuse. “I… that wasn’t a normal sort of gift one might give a friend. Uncle Thorin gave me that for my coming of age; that’s why he recognized it so easily. I gave it to you because...,” I tried, finding myself completely unable to continue for the nerves, the fear that Bilbo wouldn’t want me. He didn’t understand, obviously, but he settled one of his hands atop mine where it was settled on his cheek, smiling faintly.

                “Thorin said that I was your ghivashel, and that that was a very important thing. Does this have something to do with that?” he asked, and I felt myself nodding.

                “Yes. I told you that dwarves… only fall in love once, right? We call the one we love that way ghivashel. Like I said, it’s hard to say what that means in Westron, but Fili told me it meant something like treasure of all treasures, the most valuable thing in the world to someone. That night you spent with me… I’d always known that I thought you were beautiful, and smart, and funny, and… well, and a whole lot of other things, and I liked being around you, but that night made me realize that you were who my heart called for. When dwarves court, they give their intended gifts, to show they can provide and to prove their trust in the one they’re courting. I’m… sorry you didn’t understand, and accepted without knowing, but you’re free to refuse now if you like but I’d be really, really happy if you at least gave me a try, and also I’m sorry I just assumed you’d be okay with being courted like a dwarf and I can court you like a hobbit if you want me to as long as you tell me how it’s done, I don’t care either way as long as we’re courting, but if you don’t want me to at all that’s okay too but I just-,” I hardly noticed that I was babbling too, not until he pressed a soft kiss to my lips too.

                “Hush now,” he whispered, eyes soft, faint smile sweetly curling his lips, and I could feel myself melting, feel the stupid grin stretching my own lips. I let one hand slide up, gently stroking the curled mess of his hair and wishing ardently that I wore braids in my hair like Fili did so that I would have a bead, as that was perhaps the only truly official way I could let everyone know he was unavailable for anyone else to court. “I think I understand now, Kili, but again I’d like you to be certain. This too would be a truly terrible thing to regret simply because you’ve misinterpreted what you feel.” I managed a laugh, the sound of it weak and breathless in a way I hated.

                “I’ve already gone through this with Fili and Uncle both, and they both believed me. A dwarf would never mistake his ghivashel for any other, and you are mine. If you… if you are willing, of course. Are you?” He actually laughed, open and kind and beautiful as ever, eyes shining with pleasure.

                “I should say I am! I would not have kissed you again if not, you know, I am not so cruel! Besides, Kili, how might any refuse you when you’ve offered so sweetly?” he asked, faintly teasing, and I can admit that I wrapped him perhaps a little too tightly into my arms and swung him about.

                “Thank you, Bilbo, thank you! I will try to prove worthy of it. Will you… shall I continue to court you as a dwarf or would you like to be courted as a hobbit would?” He laughed again, bright and seeming as overjoyed as I felt, and I expect he might’ve shrugged if not for the way I held him.

                “I do not mind either way, but I expect hobbit courting would be quite scandalous to you dwarves, so with you being prince and all I expect you ought to keep it dwarven.” True enough; if anything was even the slightest bit off, I worried over another’s ability to take him from me, and that was something I couldn’t suffer.

                “Dwarven, then. I only wish… I’ll have to carve a bead from wood, even if that’s nowhere near what you deserve. I’ll make a better one when we reclaim Erebor and have a forge and some silver again. Some gems, too, emeralds and diamonds certainly, and maybe others, but you need something now, to identify that we’re courting,” I said, mostly speaking to myself, and he tilted his head.

                “Could we not just tell everyone?” he said, still teasing, but I could only shake my head.

                “We will, but the physical symbol is important, makes it official and all, makes certain that everyone will know and no one will think you’re available.” He still seemed to think it all odd, but was accepting at least, nodded agreeably.

                “Alright, I suppose I’ll take your word for that. You know, I am very glad of this; you’re an easy dwarf to fall for, Kili.” My cheeks were aching with my smile, but I kept from kissing him again for fear someone would catch us, even though I desperately wanted to, desperately wanted to spend more nights alongside him, but even Fili hadn’t dared to break that particular law of courtship with Saril.

                “I’m glad to hear that, because I couldn’t possibly let you go now,” I whispered, squeezing him more tightly, and pressing a light kiss to the top of his head since I could maybe argue that being allowed, before I stepped away. “Now, I guess we’ll have to go tell everyone about our courtship.” He nodded, happiness painting his face, and took him by the hand so we could walk back to camp together. Already my heart thrilled at the idea of making this truly official, and I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier beyond already having a bead to give him. Still, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the rest of the courtship, and once Bilbo knew what would happen, I didn’t think he’d be thrilled about it either. I wondered for a moment if I could tell everyone I wanted to court him like a hobbit and avoid the whole mess and knew the moment I had the thought that there wasn’t a dwarf in the company who’d accept it. But, at least I’d have Bilbo, and that was enough to deal with all the annoyance.   


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I would've written more on this, but I've got an appointment early in the morning and can't stay up much later. I will probably post another chapter later in the day tomorrow, though.

                I led Bilbo quietly back to the rest of the Company, holding my breath and hoping there wouldn’t be too much of a spectacle. Everyone went quiet at the sight of us, eyes fixed on his smaller hand wrapped in mine as I stopped in front of me.

                “Master Baggins has agreed to let me court him. I’ve already spoken about it with Uncle Thorin, and he approves. Does anyone have any reason to object?” I asked, doing the best I could to keep everything traditional even though Bilbo’s family wasn’t present, so I couldn’t get their permission as well. At least they were all silent, meaning that they didn’t protest, and really that’s all I could’ve asked for, so I grinned and only barely resisted the need to take Bilbo into my arms again because they approved and I was happier than I’d been in a long time. I finally let out my breath as the needed amount of silence passed and Balin spoke.

                “Well, this is… unexpected, to say the least, but perhaps he will be good for you, Kili. Have you a bead to give him, so that we might make this official?” I could feel myself flush, a little, knew they’d probably think the fact that I hadn’t already made one was a sign of me not being ready for this, not taking it seriously, but didn’t bother lying.

                “I’ll have one made by tomorrow night. I’ve already given him a gift he can wear to show my intent, though; the bead and that ceremony are just formality,” I said, casting a quick glance around the company just to make sure they understood that Bilbo was in no way available. I couldn’t help but see disappointment in a few stares, and an irrational kind of pride struck me, but I tried not to let it show. After all, Uncle and Dwalin both had always impressed on me that it was rude to insult the losers in a battle; I tried to adhere to that unless it was Fili, in which case anything was fair game. Balin nodded.

                “Bofur, will you and Bifur oversee his work? You are the finest at carving in the Company, and I expect he’d like something pretty for his intended,” he said, nodding at Bilbo, who seemed confused but at least not unhappy. Bofur nodded, signing the request to his cousin, who nodded agreeably if wildly. “Good. I suppose my brother and I shall be the chaperones, when necessary.” He gave me a look at that, sharp and suspicious, as if he knew exactly what I’d do if I didn’t have to worry over being watched constantly when I was with Bilbo, who looked even more confused now.

                “Oh, dear. I expect that I was very right indeed when I said that you all would likely find hobbit courting scandalous, if a chaperone is required. Might I ask how all of this works? It seems quite specific and I’d truly rather not risk this ending for but a silly mistake on my part.” My heart soared; Bilbo wanted the courtship to finish! My joy must’ve shown on my face because I saw Fili roll his eyes at me and mouthed an insult in response. He ignored me as if he hadn’t seen me at all, the bastard.

                “The chaperone rule has become more liberal with some, but with Kili being a prince, it’d be best to keep things by the book, I think. That even Fili suffered it for tradition’s sake ought to tell you how important it is to the noble families,” Balin explained, almost shrugging. “As for you, there won’t be much expected, as Kili’s the one who asked to court you. If you think there’s any chance of you accepting any proposals at the end of this courtship, I’d suggest thinking of something you might make or give him to signify that acceptance. Kisses are restricted to cheek and forehead, but you may embrace or hold one another’s hand as you please. Ah, and you’ll have to spend quite a bit of time with his family as well; it won’t be entirely right as you haven’t any family here, but we’ll do what we might until such time as he might meet those members you see most.” He nodded thoughtfully while I counted myself blessed that all the rules hadn’t frightened him off yet. After all, I’d heard of that happening more than once when a dwarf tried to court outside of the kingdom.

                “I don’t suppose that’ll be too much trouble,” he said, offering Fili a teasing grin whilst he squeezed my hand lightly, and I was suddenly glad of his reconciliation with Uncle because I was certain I wouldn’t have been able to manage this if he was still being treated so poorly. I remembered the trolls with sudden clarity, how angry I’d been at Uncle’s words to Bilbo then, an anger that never quite faded and always reared its head with every cold word he spoke to the hobbit. I should’ve realized what he was to me sooner, I knew that, probably from the very moment I’d walked into his home. I wondered if he’d let me live there with him, or if we’d stay in Erebor together; I’d found myself thinking every now and then of how nice life in the Shire must be, slow and simple and pleasant. Even after just the short time I’d spent there, I could see easily why he’d miss it.

                Really the only thing that would possibly hold me back was Fili, but it was a serious doubt; after all, I’d been with him for my entire life. I didn’t know a world without him, really, but anyone would say he was already as good as married to Saril and I knew well enough that I had no desire to live with them once they actually married. It’d be a thing to talk about, anyway, I thought, smiling faintly, and Bilbo and I would have plenty of time. He would, after all, be mine for the rest of our lives if I could manage it, and if I didn’t mess anything up, which I knew was possible. I’d proven more than once that I wasn’t exactly good with people I liked, or that I was… attracted to; Fili hadn’t been lying about the whole mess with the hobbit lass and the horse, after all, and I was pretty sure most people in the love stories I’d heard didn’t fall for the bumbling idiot who couldn’t even ride a horse when faced with a pretty face.

                Still, a chance was better than nothing, and Bilbo hadn’t minded so far, so maybe… well, if I doubted it too much, I knew it wouldn’t work out. Fili always told me that I was better when I just didn’t think about it; I’d try to remember that. Or did that count as thinking about it? Well, I would try not to think about it beyond remembering that.

                “We can put our bedrolls beside each other, though, and I’m allowed to hold you at night as long as I don’t, you know, do anything.” It’d probably be the only time I got to speak with him privately, anyway, and I’d probably need it; Fili had looked absolutely miserable during this stage of his courtship with Saril because conversation had to be so stilted and polite. I’d had fun laughing at him; I figured he’d probably make sure I knew how terrible payback could be, and smiled to myself because he wouldn’t be my brother if he did anything else. Bilbo glanced at Balin as if to make sure I was telling the truth, and he nodded in agreement.

                “We aren’t wholly unreasonable, Bilbo,” he said, lips twitching, and the hobbit laughed.

                “I know. I understand your traditions, truly, and I don’t mind following them. It is very… different from what I’m used to, but not wholly unpleasant.” Again relief flooded me, and with all the details out of the way, congratulations started spilling out, and I found myself not wanted to take even a step from Bilbo’s side. Still, I had to start carving, and he was obviously hungry judging by the way he was staring at the pot warming on the fire, so I led him to sit by Fili while I wandered over to Bofur and Bifur, the latter already digging through his pack for some wood I could use. I was so intent on the work that I skipped dinner that night, but I did notice when Bilbo moved to his bedroll and joined him quickly, relishing in being able to curl around him.

                He fit perfectly in my arms, warm and soft against me, and I fell asleep smiling. Thorin even let me skip watch that night, I guess because it was a happy occasion, and I vowed to do something for him too whenever I found the opportunity to do it. As pleasant as that evening turned out to be, though, the next day reminded me tenfold of my worries.     


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I actually managed to do what I promised! I'm kind of amazed at myself. Anyway, just consider this chapter as an extension to the last one, since they were meant to be part of the same chapter anyhow.

Bilbo’s POV

                Strange as it may seem, I had grown so used to waking up cold and stiff after so long of sleeping on the ground that when I awoke beside Kili, warm and comfortable, I was rather confused and half-wondering when I’d gotten shipped back to the Shire. When I remembered all that had actually happened, the warmth only deepened, and I rolled over in his arms as carefully as I could so he wouldn’t wake.

                His face was soft and relaxed, and for whatever reason, I found that odd. I only realized later that it was because for all the attempts he and his brother made at levity, I’d never seen either of them truly calm. It was a strange thought, when I had it, but at that moment, all I found myself able to do was lean forwards and press a light kiss to his lips. I expected, perhaps, him to wake up quietly and offer me one in return, or to smile that sweet, silly smile of his and tell me good morning, or at least to not awaken at all and give me a few more moments of comfort wrapped in his arms. I did _not_ expect to be hauled from my own bedroll by a remarkably disapproving Balin. I blinked. He crossed his arms as if waiting for something, and an embarrassingly long time passed before I recalled what had been said the day before about kisses. My face flamed.

                “Terribly sorry,” I managed, “I’m afraid I completely forgot.” He tried to hold the serious look on his face for a while longer but quickly couldn’t manage, instead laughing and shaking his head, his eyes twinkling in a way that was astoundingly reminiscent of Gandalf. I wondered for a moment if they’d practiced together some time until I dismissed the thought as a ridiculous byproduct of spending far too much time with dwarves.

                “Worry not; I understand perfectly the troubles faced by amorous youths in a new courtship,” he said, and I decided not to protest at being called a youth despite being well into my middle age, if only because if anyone had earned the right to call me that, it was certainly Balin, and I had grown to respect him much over the course of the journey. This particular situation did recall some rather unfortunate moments spent with the Thain, however; apparently he thought that my parents had neglected to speak with me about the birds and the bees, as it were, and took it upon himself to rectify the mistake. I cleared my throat to drive away the discomfort, and tried for a smile instead.

                “Have you been on guard all night?” I asked, and he chuckled, nodding.

                “Myself or my brother one. That is why I asked you not to worry; after all, he and I were forced to swat at Kili’s wandering hands more than once. Some of the attempts to do it without us noticing were really very impressive; it would be truly wonderful if he could put that creativity and determination to use in other things, but I suppose that it the power of love, hm?” I felt my lips curling into a smile without consent, my eyes flickering back to him where he’d managed to ball up my bedroll to cuddle in my absence. The smile deepened; simple to love indeed.

                “I must admit this will take me quite a bit of getting used to. Courting in the Shire is not so terribly different from married life, truly.” He looked interested. I settled back beside Kili and watched as he dropped the bedroll and squirmed gratefully nearer to me, head dropping on my thigh. I half-thought to be suspicious that he was only pretending to be asleep but ultimately decided not to worry over it; after all, I wasn’t bothered by the position. Thoughtless, I started running a hand through his hair, softly combing out the tangles with my fingers. Balin watched with a small, kind smile on his face, letting us be even though this was likely somewhat beyond what was technically allowed.

                “Is that so? I confess I don’t know much about the Shire or hobbits at all, really. I’ve read but one book on your people and even speaking with you casually I’ve found that most of held little more credence than a fairytale.” I chuckled.

                “Not that Guilden fellow again, was it?” Two thick brows nestled in his hairline, smile widening.

                “You know him?”

                “Oh, not personally. I do believe my family might be to blame for that awful mess, though. Apparently he met my mother on her travels to Rivendell and back, and she told him all sorts of outlandish stories about hobbits and our traditions, as a joke, you understand. I don’t think she ever thought he’d go and make a book out of it, but one morning we had a copy of the thing upon our doorstep with a note thanking her for her help. My father wandered about for weeks just shaking his head at her and smiling; she was really quite proud.” I could see he wanted to laugh, but just barely resisted for the sake of seeming as wise as ever.

                “I didn’t think you looked as though you could perform the moves to that mating dance. How exactly did he manage to do those illustrations, do you think?” My own smile widened, eyes surely bright with memories.

                “My mother was always a very… creative dancer; I’m sure she offered plenty of demonstrations.” He couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter at that, shaking his head amusedly. “I’m afraid I inherited most of that creativity. It did always make me quite popular in the Green Dragon, I’ll admit, but not so much a sought after partner at the finer parties.” Another laugh, loud and booming as the last, his smile not faded at all. I was glad for a moment that none of the others were awake; after all, I expected that they would have no qualms about teasing me over this for the rest of the quest, if not longer.

                “Oh?” he asked, and I nodded, very serious.

                “Indeed. You have seen nothing until you’ve seen a rather drunken hobbit dancing a merry jig upon a bar. Sprained my ankle once, I did; mother was very amused, and that was my week to get the shaking head and smile from my father. Most people were very shocked when they married, you know; I don’t think anyone expected them to be as happy as they were.” Kili pressed his head more firmly into my stroking hand, his own fingers finding their way to my bare calf and squeezing lightly. I was nearly certain he was awake at that point, and knew that Balin was too, but still he said nothing; I expect it was because he also heard the faint traces of sadness leaking into my voice that had probably caused the action.

                “But surely if your courtships are like marriage then people would see that they worked well together, would they not?” Balin asked, dragging the conversation back to his original question with the subtle grace of a longtime diplomat. I felt myself smile.

                “My parents were rather strange even in that, actually. They courted in secret; the first time anyone else in the Shire heard of their romance was the day my father asked my mother to marry him, and unveiled the plans for Bag End. They did wait until it was built before they wedded, though, so that it could be his wedding gift to her, but since no one in the Shire, not even the Thain, had known that they were courting, everyone thought that they were rushing into things without care, or that my mother had somehow tricked my father into it.” He looked quite confused by that, and I felt myself smile again. “My mother was a Took; they’re already known as a wild family, and she was the wildest of them. After all, she travelled to Rivendell, the farthest any hobbit has ever gone before me. My father, on the other hand, was a very respectable Baggins with very respectable hobbies.”

                “And you a perfect mix of both,” Kili suddenly murmured, hand still warm against my calf and breath hot against my leg. I laughed quietly, still stroking his hair, and now that he was no longer feigning sleep, he didn’t bother hiding the soft, pleased sounds rumbling from his throat. I wondered if the unshakable image of some great cat was a perk of every dwarf from Durin’s line, or if I’d only gotten lucky with the three I knew.

                “I am glad you think so, Kili, because I fear I’ve fallen victim to a sort of madness to ever think this was a good idea,” I said, grinning down and him, and he laughed. I distantly heard the others starting to awaken but paid it little mind overall, too focused on the conversation to let much else matter.

                “Why, how dare you suggest such a thing, Master Boggins? I might grow offended, you know, and begin to think that you do not feel me worth the danger!” I pursed my lips, drumming my fingers lightly against his head, and pretended deep thought.

                “Well, it’s either I have gone entirely mad or you dwarves are far more convincing than you’ve any right to be, and I do not think I can accept that. Of course, if madness brings such a pleasant fate as a courtship with you, then I suppose I shall not protest it too much.” His grin was bold and flashed across his face like lightning. Somewhere, I heard someone gagging. I expect it was Fili, given Kili’s reaction of flashing what I imagined was a rather rude gesture in his direction before he nestled more comfortably in his lap.

                “Balin, can you beg Uncle Thorin to let us stay here today? I don’t think I can ever bring myself to move. Mad or not, Bilbo is very comfortable.” It was probably one of the stranger compliments I’d gotten, but for whatever reason that only made me feel more appreciative of it. Balin looked ready to answer, and possibly scold him a little, but a sudden arrival managed to cut off whatever he meant to say.

                I would never be so foolish as to claim Gandalf had any notion of subtlety; he was a wizard, after all, and I was quite certain by that point that their diet consisted only of grand entrances and cryptic responses to even the most benign questions. Still, he appeared at the edge of the camp as if from nowhere, hat tilted to one side slightly more than was usual and faint traces of dirt clinging to the hem of his robe. I’m quite certain I saw even Dwalin jolt at his sudden presence as he swept towards us, not quite smiling but coming close, the same infuriating gleam in his eyes as had been there when he visited me before the dwarves came knocking at my door.

                “Where have you been, wizard?” Thorin groused, arms crossed, and Gandalf only straightened his hat, innocent as you please.

                “Here and there and back again, I suppose. You ought to be grateful, Thorin Oakenshield, for I’ve found us a place to rest and heal before we go to Mirkwood, so long as you lot don’t muck it up too terribly.” Thorin frowned, likely at the suggestion that he or his company could ever muck something up.

                “What could we possibly do, if you’ve already secured it?” he asked, and Gandalf smiled. I did not trust that smile one bit.

                “Well, I have not _secured_ it, precisely, but I recalled that he lived near here long ago and went to make certain he still did. Now I have returned to you so that we may go there, but I will admit to there being… issues.” Obviously; there were always _issues_ when it came to Gandalf. I’d learned that years ago, however much I liked him. Thorin sighed, obviously realizing the same thing, while Kili sat up, slow and unwilling, only to drag me against his side as if to tell Gandalf of the new development in our relationship. The wizard only raised a brow, not bothering to question it. I tilted my head to settle against his shoulder, and given the way the rest of the company looked at him with the action, I wished I could’ve seen his face.

                “Gandalf, if there are as many troubles as you seem to think, would it really be a good idea to try?” I said, frowning faintly. He didn’t shrug, but I expected that if he weren’t a wizard he would have.

                “Oh, I’m sure it will be alright, so long as we do not all swarm him at once. He is a bit… antisocial, after all, and dwarves are not his favorite things in the world. I’d like you to come with me when we arrive, Bilbo; the rest of you I’d have come out by twos.” Kili tensed, slightly, but I settled a hand on his thigh lightly, stretching up to kiss his cheek, and he settled a bit if not completely.

                “It’ll be alright,” I murmured in his ear, “If Gandalf thinks it best, we probably ought to listen to him.” He didn’t answer verbally, but he did nod to show he understood and relaxed almost completely against me, which I felt was entirely worth the reprimanding swat to my shoulder that Balin offered, I assume for whispering. I barely resisted a smile as at last we all stood and readied ourselves to move on, Gandalf and Thorin at the lead and mumbling quietly to one another while Kili and I walked beside Fili with Balin and Dwalin in front of us and behind us, respectively. Still, despite the strange feeling of eyes constantly on us, the conversation was pleasant and more loving than anything I’d felt since I began to live alone at Bag End and I found myself gladder and gladder to be at Kili’s side.


	6. Chapter 6

                The road to the skin changer’s home was not as difficult as I might’ve imagined; the path was relatively clear, if overgrown, and Gandalf seemed to know clearly where we were going, which was a marked improvement from Thorin’s dismal navigation in a direction that seemed only vaguely towards the mountain. Not that I would ever say that out loud, as Thorin’s lack of any sense of direction seemed a taboo topic amongst the dwarves. I would simply have to ask how he’d managed to get so turned around in the Shire of all places some time, though; after all, he was the first I’d met who’d had any trouble.

                I smiled; Kili linked his fingers with mine, swinging our arms lightly between us. I could almost imagine Dwalin rolling his eyes behind us, and Fili let his eyebrows drift towards his hairline at the sight. Kili only grinned, and I couldn’t help but offer a small smile in response; his presence was a comfort, after all.

                “Oh, come on, Kili, even I wasn’t this sappy,” Fili grumbled, and Kili laughed.

                “Well, you didn’t have a hobbit to cuddle,” he answered, squeezing my hand with the words, “You have no idea how addictive it is.” He said it as if it were known fact, and I had to chuckle, shaking my head. It all felt easy, almost unbelievably so, as if I were where I was meant to be. It was a strange feeling, like being at home though we’d barely ever stayed in one place for more than a night. If Kili found himself addicted to cuddles, I expected I could easily find myself addicted to that feeling. Still, I most certainly didn’t trust the mischievous look at appeared in Fili’s eyes at the words.

                “Really? Shall I give it a try, then?” he asked, sliding suddenly around his brother as if to grab at me, and I was wrapped in Kili’s arms so quickly that it almost made my head spin. Fili was howling with laughter right away, nearly doubled over with it, amusement painting every line of his face. I could almost see Balin and Dwalin both rolling their eyes at their antics, along with, very probably, the rest of the Company.

                “Find your own!” Kili crowed, nuzzling my cheek, and Fili was still laughing.

                “Yes, yes, that one’s yours, I understand. By the way, your reflexes have gotten far better, brother. A year ago I’d have been able to grab him.” Oddly, that actually seemed to please Kili; I supposed something like that was quite the fine compliment to a dwarf. I patted his cheek lightly, squirming loose as it was rather difficult to walk while wearing a dwarf as a coat, and he allowed it, taking my hand again in response.

                The rest of the walk was honestly uneventful, though it was still dark by the time we came upon a rustic-looking building, though Gandalf didn’t let us approach. Rather, he gestured for me, despite Kili’s obvious unwillingness, and had me follow him down to the building, where he knocked loudly on the door. I thought for a while that no one would come to answer, but then, so suddenly that I nearly jumped behind the wizard, the door slammed open.

                The man on the other side was built on a truly monumental scale, taller even than Gandalf, than any man I’d ever met, broad as an orc, and wearing a beard any dwarf likely would’ve been proud of. His face was set in a deep frown, though, an old sadness in his eyes, and I knew suddenly how easily he could kill us both. Gandalf was nervous; he came here out of desperation. That worried me.

                “Beorn,” he said, smiling wide and false, holding out a hand. The skin changer only stared at it.

                “Who are you?” he questioned, voice low and grinding. I swallowed stiffly, shifting some where I stood at Gandalf’s side.

                “I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. I am a wizard. This is my companion, Bilbo Baggins. Our Company came here to get out of the elements and rest for a while. Some of our number are hurt, after all, and-,” the giant held out a hand, cutting him off.

                “You call two a company, Wizard?” he grunted, then gestured at me, “And what is that you travel with? It is not a dwarf.” Gandalf cleared his throat, nodding.

                “Yes, well, no, two is not a Company, precisely. Bilbo is a hobbit, by the way, but we do travel with… a few dwarves,” he said, careful. Beorn’s already deep frown deepened further, one massive hand reaching out to touch my face lightly.

                “He looks more like a rabbit,” he said, quietly, “A little bunny rabbit. Too skinny, I cannot turn him out to starve. How many dwarves?” Gandalf shifted nervously, gesturing towards the mountain. Two dwarves began making their way down, though I couldn’t tell which from so far away. Beorn let us step inside, Gandalf distracting him with conversation as more and more dwarves began making their way inside and settling at the table. Beorn picked me up from my chair and plopped me onto his knee, petting my head lightly and smiling down at me, as if I were, in fact, a rabbit. Gandalf looked pleased and I expected that this was exactly the reason why he’d had me come with him.

                Really it wasn’t too terribly uncomfortable; his leg was firm and hard, but softer still than the wooden chair I’d been in before, and the food he offered was divine in comparison to what we’d had for the quest before. I didn’t expect what would happen as soon as Fili and Kili stepped inside, though, Thorin and Bombur just behind them.

                Kili paused at the door, eyes flickering around the room for a moment until they settled on me, taking in where I was sitting. He went stiff, not seeming to comprehend what he saw for the barest of seconds, but that was all it took for Fili to notice what his brother was looking at so fiercely. Before he could grab him, though, Kili had already _drawn his bow and nocked an arrow,_ aiming it squarely at Beorn, who only laughed, loud and wild, his leg shaking some underneath me and hand jerking where it was settled atop my head.

                Fili grabbed him by the nape of the neck with one hand before he could let the arrow fly, using his other arm to force Kili’s bow down. Beorn laughed louder still at Kili’s low, dangerous growl, and tension flooded the room. I worried for a moment that Kili would prove stronger than his brother and manage to raise the bow again, worried that Beorn would be hurt, for though Kili was far smaller, I knew well how dangerous he could be, when given a mind to be.

                “The bunny travels with wolves,” Beorn finally managed, and Kili jerked especially hard, nearly getting loose before Thorin arrived and caught him by the waist.

                “Settle, Kili,” Gandalf tried, “Beorn wishes only to look after Bilbo.”

                “He’s mine to look after,” he answered, shifting in Thorin’s grasp to meet my eyes. I couldn’t help but sigh, wriggling a little to get Beorn to let me go and walking over to his side.

                “Hush,” I said, kissing his cheek, “And don’t doubt me so fiercely. I don’t plan to leave you for any who offers me a good meal and a warm bed, Kili.” He tried to get Thorin to drop him, but the older dwarf kept his hold. “You don’t plan to do anything foolish now, do you?” I asked, and though it took him a few moments, he shook his head.

                “If you mean am I going to shoot him, no.” Thorin, very slowly, let him go, while Fili dropped his bow arm. He put the arrow back in its quiver and strapped the bow back to his back, subsiding as quickly as he’d sparked to anger. “I did… I finished your bead while we waited. Can we do the ceremony, Uncle?” I tilted my head; I’d assumed all that would be required was him to braid the bead into my hair. I hadn’t thought there’d be much else involved, though from as complicated as every other aspect of dwarven courtship seemed, I supposed I shouldn’t have been too terribly surprised.

                “After we eat and rest a little. We have been given… hospitality, after all,” Thorin replied, casting a vaguely suspicious stare over Beorn, who only nodded.

                “Yes, though not for your sake. Come, eat.” Kili gritted his teeth but said nothing, following me over to the table and making certain to keep a hand on my shoulder or about my waist, watching Beorn with all the intensity of a bird of prey flying above its dinner. Beorn only seemed vaguely amused, whispering something to Gandalf, who whispered something back that made him chuckle faintly. I was nearly certain that he’d laughed more in the last few minutes than he had in a very, very long time, distaste for dwarves or not.

                Kili’s suspicion did turn to something close to joy when dinner ended, though, for when the food was taken away all the dwarves settled on the floor in a wide circle. Kili led me to sit in front of him in the center, face open and sweet, eyes warm and joyful. He slid a small, wooden bead from his pocket, holding it out for me to see.

                Truly, it was beautiful, decorated with small, incredibly detailed flowers; I almost couldn’t imagine the patience he’d surely shown in carving it, and I had to smile at the sight. Relief flooded his face, the barely detectable tension that had been in his shoulders loosening into nonexistence.

                “Bilbo, will you wear my bead in an agreement to court me?” he asked, confident now, very proud.

                “Of course I will, Kili,” I said, for I could think of nothing else to say. His smile was as bright as the sun itself at my answer. He edged nearer to me, reaching out and seeking a good chunk piece of hair to use while the other dwarves started humming something that sounded low and vaguely happy. When at last he settled on a piece of hair the humming turned to a song, still with a vaguely happy sound though I couldn’t understand the words. Kili finished the braid before the song was done, given that my hair was so short, but we sat close for the remainder of it, his forehead settling softly against mine and our hands clasped together. I felt warm and full and pleased, the braid hanging comfortably on one side of my face.

                When the song faded, the mood faded slowly, the two of us slowly separating from each other and the Company drawing themselves to their feet. I couldn’t hold back a smile, while he leaned forward and snuck a quick kiss while Dwalin and Balin both were turned away, winking at me as he held out a hand to draw me to my feet. I hid a smile behind my free hand, wondering for a moment what their faces would look like if they knew what had made Kili realize that I was his “one.”

                Beorn and Gandalf watched from the background, curiosity in varying levels on both of their faces, but Kili seemed blind to them both, too focused on leading me to the room that I and the others had been given to sleep in. If ever I might’ve called anything a perfect night, it was that.

* * *

 

                I didn’t like Beorn. I don’t think anyone doubted that, seeing as how I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide it. Bilbo woke up before me the morning after I gave him my bead, having smelled what Beorn was cooking for breakfast before the rest of us, so he ended up perched on Beorn’s leg again and I knew I couldn’t do anything about it without upsetting Bilbo, which I never wanted to do. I scowled at the massive man throughout the whole meal, hardly willing to eat what he’d made when he was so obviously trying to upset me, feeding Bilbo bread and honey and calling him “bunny.”

                Uncle and Fili watched me warily, as if I was going to jump across the table at him, and maybe it was smart of them, seeing as how, beyond Bilbo’s certain disapproval, that was the only other thing holding me back from doing exactly that. The only good part of the morning was the sight of my braid hanging just behind his ear, but it was still a blessing when the meal ended and I could keep Bilbo to myself for a while.

                About a week passed in much the same way, Bilbo caught in something like a tug-of-war between me and Beorn. I think the rest of the Company mostly tried to stay out of the way, beyond making sure nothing came to blows, or, I guess, arrows. Bilbo just seemed sort of amused by it, indulging the both of us with company but always making sure to give me just the slightest bit more. I appreciated it, and the worry was a distant thing, though still present.

                I was counting the days until it was time to leave, to return to the road, and when the morning of the last day finally arrived, I was overjoyed. I had thought about spending the whole day with Bilbo, but when I awoke, he was already gone. I didn’t worry then, assuming he was just having breakfast, but when I went into the main room, he wasn’t there. Uncle said he’d decided to go for a walk through Beorn’s gardens. Beorn himself was outside cutting wood.

                A bad feeling flooded me suddenly, heart clenching and mind racing. I ran outside, into the gardens, looking desperately for Bilbo, but I couldn’t see him through the plants. I kept trying until I heard a yell, quick and frightened and most definitely him.

                My breath stopped; terror flooded me. I felt like I had when I’d seen the trolls holding him, desperation filling me. I couldn’t let him get hurt, I couldn’t. I took off towards the sound, lungs burning, saw something else running towards Bilbo, something massive.

                I could barely tell that it was a boar, it was so large. I reached for my bow, but it wasn’t there; I hadn’t put it on that morning. I ran faster even though I knew I couldn’t reach him fast enough, and I could see Bilbo trying to get out of the way, trying to run, but the boar stayed on him and it was faster. He didn’t have Sting with him. My only thought was that I couldn’t lose him, and that was when Beorn appeared, grabbing the boar in one massive hand as if it were a small dog. It quieted at his touch. Bilbo stopped running, dropping to the ground and breathing deep. I didn’t slow down until I reached him, wrapping him tight in my arms. I was shaking badly, but I barely noticed and he didn’t comment on it, instead simply leaning against my back and breathing deeply, eyes slipping closed.  

                “Thank you,” I whispered, not really even knowing who I was speaking to but knowing that it needed to be said, “Thank you.” Beorn watched, for a moment, still holding the boar as I rocked Bilbo softly back and forth. I felt my eyes burning, so I clenched them closed to keep from crying. Bilbo pressed his back more firmly against my chest and I could feel him shaking a little too so I squeezed him tighter. I felt like I’d failed and that didn’t make it any easier to open my eyes again, though I did finally manage.

                Beorn let the calmed boar go, watched it trot back into the plants, and moved over to us, crouching so that he was level with us and patting Bilbo’s head softly. I saw now the almost fatherly nature of the touch; to him, Bilbo was just a small thing he needed to protect, nothing more. I felt like an idiot for being so worried the whole time we’d been here. Fili would probably have a field day reminding me of this, and I didn’t doubt that Uncle would let me know exactly how much of an idiot I actually was.

                “Is little bunny alright?” Beorn asked, so soft I could barely hear it, “I’m sorry for my boar. He frightens easily.” Bilbo nodded, and when he tilted his head back, I saw the shaky smile he’d managed.

                “Yes. Yes, I’m alright. It’s lucky you both were here,” he said, trying a little laugh. “I suppose it serves me right for leaving Sting inside.” Beorn smiled, as much as he ever did, the look of it craggy and almost strange on his face.

                “Be glad of your dwarf. I would not have known something was wrong if I hadn’t heard him run by.” I kissed Bilbo’s neck, gentle and quiet, his skin feeling hot against my lips.

                “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass, Beorn,” I managed, even though it almost hurt to say. “You kept me from losing my One, though, and I can never thank you enough for that.” Bilbo leaned his head against my shoulder, shaking slowly coming to an end, and with the assurance that he was alive and well in my arms, I felt myself start to settle too. I was still afraid of losing him, still terrified over what would have happened had Beorn not been there, but it was fading, slowly but steadily.

                “It is alright. I have been told that love makes asses of us all,” he said, slow and careful, his expression amused but an old, melancholy light in his eyes. I imagined he’d had more experience with that than it simply being something someone had mentioned once, but it wasn’t my place to question. “I am glad to have given you dwarves a chance, you know, and glad to have seen that you are not all what thought you were. It is an honor to help you with this quest, foolish though I think it. Look after bunny, won’t you?” I swallowed, fixing a smile on my face and finding comfort in it.

                “I’ll guard him with my life,” I said, not surprised that I was telling the total truth. For him, or for Fili and Uncle, I’d gladly lay down my life because they were the most important people on this quest with me. They were the ones I couldn’t stand to lose. My smile turned genuine as I turned Bilbo around, stealing a few more kisses before Balin and Dwalin found out that we were as good as alone together. Bilbo returned them gladly, Beorn nodding once before he stood and left us alone, making his slow, loping way back to the place where he cut wood.

                We did end up spending the day alone together, except, obviously, for Balin and Dwalin who did learn very quickly that he and I were alone, chattering quietly with one another. The gardens reminded Bilbo of the Shire, so he told me stories of life there, stories of his family and his friends, the little “adventures” he’d gone on with his cousins, and countless other little things that made light flood his eyes again.

                In return, I told stories of what life had been like in the Blue Mountains, all the pranks Fili and I had pulled on Uncle and Dwalin and our mother, of the day it had been decided that I would learn archery while Fili kept to swords because we’d competed fiercely enough that we each had broken bones, the day Fili had come home besotted with Saril… it all made me smile, and he seemed to find pleasure in my happiness just as I did in his. It was an easy afternoon, though I did spend much of it wondering what, exactly, my mother would say when she found out that I’d found my One in a hobbit. I smiled to myself at the thought, and, as Thorin called that it was time to leave and Beorn gave us new ponies to ride towards Mirkwood, I started planning how I might trick him into being the one to tell her. It was a nice diversion from what I knew was on the way, but I think I’d have needed yet more distraction if I’d really known what was coming in that forest.


	7. Chapter 7

Bilbo’s POV

                If I expected the road to Mirkwood to be easier because of the ponies, I was quickly proven wrong. It was a rough ride, and the ponies seemed to balk often at even the slightest sounds coming from the direction of the forest, as if expecting something awful to befall us before we’d even entered the place. It might’ve been better if not for the silence and the tension that fell over the company; they were frightened, I could see it in their faces. This was the place they’d been dreading the whole way, perhaps even more so than their dragon infested mountain.

                I understood it only partly; Thorin’s distaste for Thranduil was not made a secret, nor was their history, and I even knew how dangerous Mirkwood had become in recent years, and yet still it all seemed excessive. The closer we got, the more tense they became, Kili keeping his pony so close to mine that I half-feared they’d trip over one another, while all the other dwarves kept a hand on or near their weapons. Even Gandalf seemed warier, his gaze guarded and his walk stilted. I was beginning to think that they knew something that I didn’t when we reached the forest at last, and was proven right when Gandalf spoke again, warning of illusions and our fate should we stray from the overgrown, already half-hidden path. I was not glad when he rode off again with no more than a promise to meet us at Erebor.

                We left the ponies at the edge of the wood so that they could return to their master, and Thorin led us into its dark embrace, back stiff and face dark as if to pretend that he wasn’t as nervous as the rest of us. Kili stayed close to me, a warm, reassuring presence at my side, as we began to traverse the woods. The first thing I could think was that it felt alive; the forest moved and breathed around us, changing and shifting like some great beast. It didn’t want us here, and it was perfectly willing to show that by way of roots that sprang forth to trip us and sudden twists to the path that hadn’t been there mere moments before.

                The hallucinations started to plague them before me. Their heads swam, their bodies moving as if not their own, glazed eyes staring forwards at things only they could see. Kili mumbled to himself, words and phrases that I didn’t understand that could’ve been Khuzdul or could’ve been simple nonsense. He still clutched at my arm, eyes wild and flashing teeth at those who came near us more often than not, though periodically sense would return to him, his eyes clearing, mouth twisting over words like Beorn and trust and bond until the pressures of the forest returned and he fell back to muttering.

                I tried to keep us on the path when the dwarves started trying to stray or wander, calling that they saw other dwarves not far away, or that orcs were upon us and we had to hide, or even that we’d passed the mountain and had to turn around. Eventually, though, I felt my own mind succumb to the illusions as well, and we lost our way.

                We wandered aimlessly in circles for a long while, myself fighting for sanity and clarity while the dwarves, who’d suffered it longer than I, merely fought one another, arguing over what to do and the right way to go. Even Kili eventually let go of my arm to join in the arguing, though he stayed nearby and I could feel his eyes on me constantly. I still should have spoken out when the mention of the sun made me climb the tree, still should’ve told them what I planned. Perhaps then I’d have not been caught off guard by the spiders, and we might’ve escaped the wood without further incident, though perhaps it was for the best.

                I didn’t deal with the spiders in the best way, that I can admit, but it worked long enough to free them, to give them a fighting chance, and though the sound of them calling for me when I couldn’t come burned, I at least knew that that too was for the best when the elves took them. I followed with my ring, heard a few whisper my name to one another when the elven warriors were turned away, and Kili looked so horribly wretched that I wished nothing more than to be able to let him know I was well, but I couldn’t take the risk. Instead, I only crept after them into the dungeons and began to seek a way to help them escape. I only hoped that they did not worry over me too fiercely before it was safe to show them that I was alright.

* * *

 

Kili’s POV

                I’d never felt an emptiness in my heart like the one I felt when the elves took us and we found that Bilbo was not amongst us. It was worse than the time with the goblins; that, at least, had all happened so quickly that I hadn’t had time to really notice his absence, and his return so quick when I did notice that I had to suffer little. This, though… all I could do was sit in a cell, alone, without even Fili to distract me, and think of him, his sweetness and his bravery and his cunning, the stories he’d told me and the dreams he’d shared. The empty feeling became suddenly sharper.

                I couldn’t even know for certain if he lived or not, and for a quick moment I wished that he was a dwarf instead of a hobbit so that I could. At least then there wouldn’t be such uncertainty. If he had died then I could begin to mourn, and if he lived… if he lived, I could still hope. As it stood I didn’t feel safe doing either, so instead I only stared at the wall, playing with my mother’s stone and wishing I’d given it to him already, so a part of me would be with him wherever he was. Somewhere, very faintly, I heard Uncle’s voice and assumed that he’d been brought to his own cell, whatever deal the elf king offered refused. The thought was a little bitter; if he’d just said yes, just agreed to his terms, then I could already be looking for Bilbo.

                If I ever saw him again, I was sure he’d make a good story of this, make it funny somehow, laugh about how he’d fallen from the tree and maybe say something about how he’d as Lobelia must’ve when she tripped into a muddy river and came up filthy and sopping, and then he’d probably shudder dramatically at the mere idea of being anything like her. I felt myself smile; his stories about the mad Lobelia woman were my favorites, if only because I could imagine her so clearly. I lost myself in remembering the stories he’d told of her, smiling to myself, and felt a little embarrassed at myself for jumping when the elf woman came to my prison door.

                “I knew that dwarves had a love for stone, but I didn’t think that one so simple could make even a dwarf smile so happily in a prison cell,” she said, and I played at offense just to keep her interested. After all, she was a distraction at least, and I needed that more than anything.

                “Simple, you say! I’ll have you know that this is a cursed talisman! If any but a dwarf reads these runes… well, needless to say it wouldn’t be good.” I thrust it out towards her, runes facing out, and felt my lips twitch as she jerked back, looking ready to walk away. I couldn’t let her, though, not then; a sudden thought informed me that she might at least be able to tell me if anyone had happened to save a hobbit from the spiders as well. “If you believe in that sort of thing. It’s only a token.” She stopped.

                “From who?” she asked, voice quiet and almost understanding.

                “My mother. She gave it to me before I left, so that I would remember my promise to return. My brother’s intended gave him something similar; she and our mother both think us reckless, me more than him.” The thought wasn’t exactly wrong, either, and I could see in her face that she knew that as well. I turned the stone in my hand, tracing the runes again and again, my fingers having long ago memorized the path. I tilted my head back; the little smile curled my lips again.

                “So you smile in remembrance of her,” she said, and I shook my head.

                “Not really. I’m smiling because I’m remembering the one I mean to give it to. He wasn’t with us when we were taken here, and I worry.” Sympathy touched her face, but the understanding was gone. I guessed she hadn’t been in love before.

                “We found no other dwarves when we found you,” she said, quiet, and my lips twitched again.

                “He isn’t a dwarf.” Surprise again. It was weirdly simple to read her. Maybe she’d never found a need to hide what she felt. She settled in front of the gate, quiet and easy, and nodded slowly.

                “I did not think your people accepted such unions.” I chuckled, quiet and sad-sounding to even my own ears. I wanted to be beside him again more than I wanted anything, and if I closed my eyes, I could almost see his face, almost hear his voice.

                “It’s not common, but it’s not really frowned upon either, for most. A dwarf’s One is his One, after all. I’d only just started courting him officially, bead and everything, but unofficially… it’s been a while. I gave him the dagger I got for my coming of age already, but this was meant to be next. I wanted to give it to him while we were in the wood, but I couldn’t think clearly enough to manage it.” The frustration I felt at that bled into my voice. The days we’d spent wandering through Mirkwood hadn’t been pleasant; every shadow had looked to me as though it contained a hobbit he’d bedded or courted, and every whisper had sounded like a summons for him.

                I’d felt sick at myself for the illusions I conjured; I knew he loved me, knew I trusted him, knew he wouldn’t leave me, but it was like something in that forest had found all my insecurities and thrown them back in my face. Every time Bilbo had looked in the direction of one of the phantoms it’d felt like a knife to my heart until the madness faded enough that I could remember that he couldn’t see them.  

                “If not a dwarf, what was he? What did he look like? Perhaps I can see if any have happened upon him,” she murmured, and even though I knew that Uncle would’ve had a fit, I couldn’t resist telling her out of hope that she would know or discover _something_ about what had happened to him and where he was.

                “A hobbit,” I said, ignoring the disbelief painting her face. “He’s an inch or two shorter than the shortest among us, with very curly, copper colored hair and pale brown eyes. He’d have one braid with a wooden bead etched with flowers, and he wore a vest with all the buttons torn off over a plain shirt and trousers, with a jacket over both. He’d have had a sword, too, elven like my Uncle’s but smaller, more like a dagger to you.” She nodded, slow, careful, and still disbelieving.

                “I am sorry. I will ask where I’m able, but I think I would have heard by now if a hobbit had been found amongst you. Our people know little of them, after all, so he’d have been taken to answer questions for us.” I’m not entirely certain why, but that thought upset me a little; I guess it was because she spoke about Bilbo as if he were some kind of artifact to be studied rather than the living thing he was. I clutched the stone a little tighter, heart aching more deeply. She tried to smile comfortingly, but it was a little cold despite her intent. “I’d have heard even if the hobbit they found were not still among us. I think that he is alive, wherever he is. Perhaps he has gotten out of Mirkwood,” she tried, and though I knew why she said it, my chest still ached.

I didn’t want to think of him abandoning us, abandoning me, and knew in my heart that he wouldn’t. If he was still alive, he was looking for a way to help us. Her words were reassuring in their way, though, and that at least was more than I’d had before.

                “The elves in Rivendell seemed to know plenty about hobbits,” I mumbled, remembering the days we’d spent there not-quite-fondly. Bilbo had been more relaxed, which had been nice, but I’d been too blind to take advantage of it to get closer to him, though looking back on it there hadn’t been many occasions where I didn’t occupy my time with staring at him. It really was no wonder why Fili had looked so bothered with me the whole time we were there, or why Bilbo had seemed so confused by me. He’d probably thought me insane, given that performance; I still wondered what had possessed him to tell me yes.

                “Rivendell is very near to the Shire, and elves there probably pass through occasionally when on their way to the Gray Havens,” she answered, voice very careful as if afraid of offending me. “I’ve never seen one myself. I don’t think one has ever travelled so far before.” I laughed, and I’m sure she heard the fondness in it because I made no effort to cover it up.

                “He’s the first, he said so himself. The farthest any had been before was his mother, to Rivendell. Mahal but I miss him fiercely; even this would seem bright if he were here,” I managed, the last more to myself than to her. She asked me questions about him then, gentle and probing, and I spoke much, the ability to talk about him a comfort in the time that I couldn’t see him. I knew it was stupid of me and knew that she was mainly doing it for information about his culture, but it didn’t seem to matter to me and after all the stories he’d told me I knew a lot about how hobbit society ran so she let me keep talking.

                Eventually she left, though, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts of him again, and darkness fell in the dungeons. I heard some kind of party going on upstairs most of the night, and my stomach roiled with hunger while my throat ached for water after I’d spoken for so long. The only real comfort was the stone, since it reminded me of Bilbo and Fili and my mother all at once; I tried calling for the two that could’ve conceivably been there for a while, but one of the guards threatened me with a spear if I didn’t keep quiet.

                The elf woman, who called herself Tauriel, came by every now and then, but eventually she didn’t prove distraction enough to keep me from getting lost in my misery. She seemed a little worried over me; I half-thought she’d come to think of me as a friend.

                “You don’t look well, Kili,” she finally said, after some indeterminable amount of days passed by. I turned the rune stone in my hand, imagining that the runes had to be wearing smooth by my hand after so long of being stroked. “Are you not being fed enough, or given enough water?” I tried a laugh, but I knew it didn’t sound good.

                “It isn’t that. I miss Bilbo.” She tilted her head, eyes soft and warm but still confused. The blonde elf I often saw watching her surely had to be frustrated beyond reason by now; I might’ve felt for him if he hadn’t so obviously thought that I was pining after her too. Not to say I wasn’t pining; I was, only not for her. I’d long known that dwarves didn’t do well without their One, once they’d found them. Even my mother, mighty as she was, had barely been able to force herself from her bed for weeks after my father’s death. When I’d gotten older and braver and the pain had lessened some, I’d asked her how it had felt and she’d told me that it was as if half her soul had been ripped from her the moment his was gone. I hadn’t understood her at the time, at least not entirely, but I did then. I prayed he wasn’t dead.

                “You will see him again. The way you have described him, he is nothing if not a fighter.” My laugh was a little more real, a little stronger, at that.

                “He is definitely that.”

                “I’d like to meet him one day, if it’s possible,” she said, thoughtful, and my laugh grew stronger still. I shook my head, grin flashing across my face and her own expression lightening a little at the sight of it.

                “Certainly not. If you were around I’d never get to spend any time with him, for you’d always be there to whisk him away for some question or another and he’s far too polite to say no. Really, I can barely stand that he sometimes spends time with my very attached brother and my Uncle who married his crown decades ago; how could I possibly tolerate him prancing off with an elf girl?” She laughed herself, loud and bold and not at all like how I usually expected elves to laugh, and gave a grin of her own, full of teasing and mirth. She reminded me of Fili, in a way; I might’ve called her sister if I hadn’t worried over how she’d react to the title.

                “All the more reason. You’re quite fun to annoy; your face turns very red, as now.” I snorted.

                “The last person who annoyed me this way nearly got an arrow to the head, and would have if my family hadn’t stopped me. Do you want to test your luck when I get my bow back?” She arched one narrow brow, crossing her arms over her chest.

                “And do _you_ truly wish to challenge an _elf_ who happens to be a captain of the guard to a test of _archery_ , of all things?” I smirked, then tried to look thoughtful and most definitely failed miserably at it.

                “I’d challenge your king Thranduil himself at it, for Bilbo,” I said, “And I’d win for him, too.” She actually snorted herself, then. I think I was rubbing off on her.

                “The only truly upsetting part of all this is that I almost find myself believing you. I would stay longer and let you convince me, of course, but I have much to do today. They say that there have been some sightings of orcs near here, and I am needed to scout. I only wished to make certain that you had not yet totally withered away.” I let my lips tilt up again in a smile that I hoped would reassure her that I was alright, or at least that I would be eventually, and nodded, watching as she walked away and then only letting my head fall against the wall again. Before I left home, I’d have probably been shocked that I could manage to sit that way for so long, but as it stood, I didn’t move again until I felt something prod my shoulder, heard a quiet voice whispering my name.

                At first I thought I was going insane or hallucinating again or something; the voice sounded like Bilbo’s and without knowing it I’d nearly lost the hope of hearing it again. Not to mention the fact that I couldn’t _see_ him, which seemed like a pretty good indicator to me that he wasn’t there. I tried to ignore it, but I kept feeling the same insistent prodding at my arm.

                “Kili, come now. I’ve spent ages trying to find you in this maze of a place, and this is the sort of reception I get? We haven’t a lot of time, you know; I’ve found a way out but I haven’t found Thorin just yet, nor have I managed to pilfer keys to the cells. I only wished to let you know that I was alright before I resumed the search.” More prodding. I felt around where his arm would be and felt something solid and warm, alive, Bilbo, then slid my own hand down to close around his where it poked me. I squeezed probably too tightly and felt myself start to cry without prompting.

                “Bilbo,” I managed, eyes stinging, “Bilbo, you’re alive.” I imagined his smile and heard it in his voice.

                “I am. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner, but you, your brother, and I assume Thorin are very deep in the dungeons. The others were much higher up, so I found them much faster. I’m glad to see you well too,” he whispered, squeezing my hand just as tightly as I squeezed his. I wished that I could pull him closer but I knew he was on the other side of the bars even though I couldn’t see him, so instead I did the next best thing and stood as close to the bars as I could, slipping my fingers through to touch where I knew his cheek was, as if to further prove to myself that he was really there.

                “Why can’t I see you?” I mumbled back, and felt his cheek shift with another smile.

                “I found something in the goblin tunnels; that’s how I escaped there and how I’ve been moving freely through these dungeons. I’ll explain it better later, when I’ve a little more time and freedom to do it. I’d take it off now, but a guard will pass by here in a few minutes and I doubt I’d do you much good in a prison cell.” I nodded even though I didn’t really want him to leave again, and bent down, hoping he’d understand what I wanted and glad when I felt the quick, hot press of his lips against mine.

                I wished desperately and suddenly that I could have more, like before, like that night we spent together so long before and knowing it wasn’t possible.

                “Please be safe, Bilbo,” I spoke, the words falling against his lips, and he nodded.

                “I will try, so long as you promise me the same,” he answered, and I felt my lips spread in a wide grin that was stronger than any I’d managed in a very long time.

                “You’ve such faith in me, thinking I could get into trouble from a prison cell,” I said, and heard him laugh, imagining the raised eyebrows and the wide, incredulous eyes and the way his hands probably drifted to his hips.

                “I’ve never doubted your ability,” he managed through his giggles, offering me one last peck before he ran off, the sounds of his laughter fading with his touch. I only realized afterwards that I’d forgotten to give him the stone again, and was unable to do much more than sigh at myself. Suddenly, I was starting to understand just what, exactly, Fili meant when he called me an idiot, and as much as I hated to admit that he was right about anything, I was starting to believe it. At least Bilbo would probably never tell him he was right, though; that was but one of the many virtues of falling for a hobbit, I was pretty sure, and I’m sort of an expert in that field. I’m nearly certain that I spent the rest of the night smiling to myself like an idiot, hope a bright beacon in my heart again, and the empty place filled with the knowledge that Bilbo was still alright.     


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guys, I'm planning to move at the end of this week, so most of my time in the coming days is going to be spent in a wild fray of packing and unpacking things, and possibly also frustrated screeching as I invariably realize that I've forgotten something I need desperately, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to post next week or not. I'll do my best, of course, but I don't want to make any promises I can't keep!

Bilbo’s POV

                The Mirkwood dungeons were the most complicated maze I’d ever happened upon. Everything seemed to look the same, especially under the gray, fuzzy haze of my ring, and all the halls and bridges seemed to twist in upon themselves endlessly. Still, I’d followed the guards for long enough that I’d learned it well, though venturing too deeply still worried me some. Finding Thorin was perhaps the greatest relief of my life simply because it meant that I didn’t have to learn any more paths through the place, nor any more guard shifts, nor even where the ground was uneven so that I didn’t fall and lose my ring, as had happened once on my first day of wandering.

                I walked as quickly as I felt I safely could to the door of Thorin’s cell, and rattled it a little so that I could get his attention without having to yell too loudly. He jolted, which he would surely never admit to if ever I asked him about it, and stared mistrustfully at the door, as if an elf were playing some silly prank on him.

                “Thorin, it’s me,” I whispered, and he settled immediately, recognizing my voice and surely knowing how counterproductive it would be if he offered any sort of loud response and drew the guards there again.

                “Bilbo? Have I gone mad or is there a reason why I cannot see you?” I bit my lip to hold back a chuckle; Kili would probably never believe how like his uncle he really was.

                “I’ll explain it when I’ve got a little more time. Suffice it to say that it’s something I’ve had since the goblin tunnels.” He nodded, faint enough that it could’ve just been a shift of his head to get more comfortable.

                “I should’ve guessed you had another trick up your sleeve. Have you checked on Kili yet? I’m sure your absence has made him insufferable by now,” he said, veiling his worry under feigned annoyance.

                “I have; he didn’t look his best, but I think hearing me helped some. I’ve seen everyone else too, and beyond being annoyed at their extended stay here they’re all doing well enough. I’ve got an idea to get us out, too, but I’m not sure it’ll work yet and I still haven’t quite managed to get the keys to your cells. I should be able to get them soon, though; there is a guard who nearly always sleeps on the job, and it won’t be much trouble to get them from him. I’ll try and work out the particulars for the plan for the rest of the day, then get the keys at night and lead you all out.” Thorin let a thin smile curl his lips, faint and hardly noticeable.

                “Mahal fear the ingenuity of hobbits,” he mumbled, “and please never let them change. You should probably visit Kili again, by the way. Balin and Dwalin will both be half-mad with worry when you reunite more publically, and I fear that Kili won’t be able to resist less proper displays of affection if he’s gone too long without seeing you.” I heard myself laugh, quiet and a little breathless with the need to stay quiet and hidden, and Thorin’s thin smile spread a little wider for the barest of moments.

                “Oh, I’m sure Balin and Dwalin could use the excitement. I think I may wait with him while I plan, though, to settle his nerves.” Thorin nodded, just as careful as before, and allowed his eyes to slip closed, head tilting back to press against the wall.

                “He’ll need it. Dwarves do not do well when separated from their One for too long, and Kili has never had to feel that pain before. I don’t worry so much over Gloin, or even Fili, as they’ve had at least a bit of experience with being apart from their Ones,” he murmured, quiet, and it was strange to hear him admit to his worry but welcome even still, especially given what he told me. I swallowed, my throat feeling tight and scratchy very suddenly; Kili really hadn’t looked his best when I’d seen him, shadows thick under his eyes and lips curled down in a frown that looked strange on his face. He’d looked as if he’d lost a bit of weight as well, and none of the other dwarves appeared so.

                “I wish he’d have mentioned that when I was last there,” I whispered to myself, a sigh heavy on my lips, and Thorin chuckled lightly.

                “Like as not he didn’t wish to worry you. He has a habit of keeping important things from people he loves.” I was beginning to see that, and told Thorin as much when I nodded my goodbyes and made my way as quickly as was safely possible back to Kili’s cell. A guard shift wouldn’t go by his door for some time, I knew; perhaps I’d be able to take the ring off for a few minutes, at least, and assure him more firmly that I was, in fact, really there.

                I didn’t expect to hear Kili’s voice as I neared; I worried for a moment that perhaps he was feeling worse than Thorin had implied, but then I heard a second voice, quiet and feminine. Confused, I crept a little closer and listened hard, the conversation Kili and the unknown woman shared quiet but clear.

                “I’m as certain as I ever was that you will see him again, Kili,” the woman said, quiet and perhaps a bit frightened, and I heard Kili laugh, though it was a tired, almost lost sort of sound, hardly a shadow of what it was before. Guilt bit at me for causing him such hurt, and I could only hope that he would be alright once we escaped the dungeons.

                “I know, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less now. A One is meant to be forever, two lives permanently tied together. Being apart from him like this, on a quest this dangerous… I’m certain now that he’s still alive, but I can’t know if he’s hurt, or lost,” he whispered, swallowing thickly and closing his eyes while she stepped forward, laying a comforting hand on his arm though a certain confusion still lingered on her face.

                I was suddenly glad of her presence; she had obviously become a friend to Kili over his time there, had spoken with him when she certainly didn’t have to and nearly no one would expect her to, and I could see that having someone to speak with had helped him some. I feared his state had she not been there, had he been completely alone through the time I’d had to wander the dungeons, and vowed that if I could help it, I’d never leave him alone that way again.

                “Kili, I do not understand completely because I have never felt as you so obviously do, and though elves do suffer fiercely if ever the one they’re tied to dies, I do not think it’s quite the same as what you describe,” she said, quiet, and waited a moment before she spoke again. “You know that I am willing to listen, though.” He tried another laugh, this one with the slightest traces of true amusement, and I know at least that he would recover.

                “You only want to grill me on dwarven culture now that you’ve managed to pry loose all I know of hobbits,” he grumbled, and she feigned offense, hands moving to her hips and a noise like a scoff slipping from her lips.

                “How dare you suggest such a thing, when I offer as a caring friend!” she said, and Kili laughed again, shaking his head.

                “Caring friend, huh? Yes, it was entirely your care for me that resulted in all those pages of hobbit stories you’ve carried back to your room from here, wasn’t it?” he asked, a playful note still in his voice, and she grinned, wide and sharp.

                “We might have lost much of our knowledge on dwarven culture once relations between our races turned so sour,” she said, then paused for a moment. “Still, I assure you that the main reason is a desire to allow you to speak when you are still so bothered by your loneliness.” I edged nearer, curious myself as to what he would say, as I still hadn’t had the opportunity to learn all there was to know about dwarven courtship or all of what being Kili’s One really entailed.

                “Mostly it’s just what I’ve said. Every dwarf has their One, the person they’re meant to share their life with, and we can recognize that person the moment we see them, usually. It took me longer because I wasn’t really expecting to meet my One on this quest, and I definitely wasn’t expecting a hobbit, but when I saw, it wasn’t exactly a struggle to accept. Since he’s accepted my offer to court, and since he wears my bead, there’s a bond there, a very deep one that can’t be broken. His heart and mine are bound; my mother always used to say that in every fated pair there was a piece of Mahal and Yavanna, forever connected in love, separated only by tragedy and even then reunited in death.” She tilted her head, and I felt myself sliding closer still, interested and faintly happy for reasons I couldn’t name.

                “Are you certain it works the same way for hobbits?” she murmured, her own need to find answers to her questions momentarily overshadowing her need to comfort Kili, who frowned.

                “No, but I feel as if it must. None could be so cruel as to gift me with a love like Bilbo only to take him from me before I even reach my middle ages.” He sounded partly as if he wanted to convince himself of that fact, and shook his head. “Maybe it won’t be exactly the same, or completely effective, but it has to work that way at least a little.” She nodded.

                “I would think so. It will be interesting to see, you know. You must send me letters, tell me how things progress. If anything I would at least love to know of your future blunders with him, for you seem to be quite skilled with those,” she said, eyes flashing with mirth, and Kili snorted.

                “He said yes, didn’t he? I had to have done something right.” She grinned again, drawing herself from where she sat in front of his cell to her full, rather impressive, height.

                “Perhaps he simply has a weakness for truly astounding levels of enthusiasm, even if he who possesses said enthusiasm has little grasp of concepts such as tact, or seduction, or-,” he cut her off with a laugh, true this time and nearly as bright as I recalled.

                “Oh shut up! I’m a charming rogue, he told me so himself!” he crowed, and the elf could only roll her eyes, starting to walk away.

                “I think that I will include a propensity for delusions in my papers on dwarven culture,” she said, eyes glittering as she offered him a quick wave and completely disappeared before he could respond again. I took that as my cue to finally go to his cell, glance around to make certain the guard shifts near his cell hadn’t changed without my knowing, and slip my ring off. It was worth the risk just to see the sudden surprise and joy on his face as he rushed forward, wrapping me in his arms as best as he was able through the bars and peppering my face and lips with quick, desperate kisses. I chuckled, returning the awkward grasp and every kiss I could, and then found another moment of pleasure as an embarrassed sort of worry overtook his expression.

                “You… didn’t hear all that, did you?” he asked, finally, and I bit at the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing outright.

                “Kili, you charming rogue, you would accuse me of eavesdropping?” He flushed a rather spectacular shade of red, sheepish grin splitting his face as he tried to think of a way to backpedal.

                “I couldn’t just stand for her insulting my romantic prowess, Bilbo,” he said, almost whining, and I couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer, though I did try to stifle it so as to not draw unwanted attention.

                “Worry not, Kili. You are certainly roguishly handsome, and charming in your own way if not in a precisely conventional sense. You’ve grown on me, certainly, rather like a mushroom,” I said, kissing him soundly to silence the protest that I knew was forming in his mind. I could see a pleased light in his eyes even still, though, and I realized why when at last I pulled away and let him speak again.

                “You think I’m handsome?” he asked, light and almost shy, and I let my eyebrows drift up, honestly a bit astounded that he could sound so confused by that when nearly every single lady in the Shire had set to trailing after him the moment he stepped foot there. Very suddenly, though, I realized that dwarves and hobbits very likely didn’t have the same tastes; from what I could tell, dwarven standards of beauty were based upon the length and intricacy of one’s beard, the broadness of one’s body, and the strength of one’s face. Kili, I imagined, probably hadn’t gotten many compliments on his looks before.

                “Incredibly so,” I said, and I was far from lying. “More so than anyone I’ve known, I think.” His face lit up, the flush not fading entirely but at least lessening in intensity, and I settled in front of the bars, him doing the same on the other side.

                “I can’t wait to tell Fili; I bet Saril’s never told him that!” he said, and I chuckled lightly, shaking my head and letting my fingers twine with his.

                “Never will I understand the dwarven need to turn everything into a competition,” I grumbled, not really angry but playing at it for familiarity’s sake. “I’ve found your uncle, by the way, and I think I’ve a plan to get us out of here. I came here so that I might think on it for the rest of the day, and leave to fetch the keys when night falls.” Relief flickered across his face and I realized suddenly that it was not only me he’d been worried over. I understood suddenly that Thorin could easily have not been there at all, could have been killed by Thranduil or died from untreated injuries, just as any of the rest of the Company could have been, truly. I only hoped our luck would hold against my plan for our escape.

* * *

 

                Kili served as a good sounding board for my idea, offering what suggestions he could given the tiny bits of knowledge he’d gained from speaking with the elf woman, who I learned was called Tauriel, during his time there. The plan seemed to worry him some, in that he knew how dangerous it was, but I could see in his face that he would trust me if I thought it would work. It was almost humbling, seeing such a look on his face, knowing that he believed in me so steadfastly, and I found myself determined to make certain that that trust wasn’t misplaced.

                We spoke for hours, with short pauses in between where I slipped on my ring to hide from passing guard shifts, and I could feel the change in the air as the time grew right to make my way to fetch the keys to the cells. Kili seemed almost unwilling to let me leave, fear that had been hidden immediately stark upon his face, and though it made me ache, I knew that it was necessary for me to go, though I hoped desperately that it would be the last time I ever had to leave the place without him at my side.

                When I reached the sleeping guard beside the barrels in what I supposed was Thranduil’s wine cellar, I took in a deep breath and tried to settle my nerves and keep my hand from shaking too fiercely. I tried to assure myself that I was a burglar, even if an untried one, that Gandalf had chosen me for a reason, and slowly, so slowly, reached out and slipped the keys from the loop of the elf’s belt. He stirred some, but did not awaken, likely too drunk to manage, and I stepped away as fast as I could without jingling the keys.

                My heart thudded far too loudly in my chest, adrenaline rushing wildly through me, and in a way I couldn’t quite believe that it had worked. Admittedly I stood there staring for a while, probably too long, before I whipped around and strode from the room, rushing through the dungeons one more time to fetch all of my dwarves, unable to resist going to get Kili first and certainly unable to let go of his hand as I led him through the dungeons to free everyone else, his uncle and brother first for his comfort and then all the rest.

                None of them every questioned where we were going or what I planned, and Kili, though still nervous, wore a determined look on his face that I knew very well and appreciated more than I could ever say. Only Thorin even thought to question me when we reached the barrels and I asked them to get inside, but I hardly even needed to answer before he was nodding, telling the others to follow my lead. My heart felt soft and warm at the acceptance in their eyes, and I knew more deeply than ever before that so long as those dwarves were around, I would have a home. With one last quick, awkwardly angled kiss to Kili’s lips, I sent the barrels rushing down to the river, and leapt in after them, desperately clinging to the nearest barrel I could reach.

                I heard the alarms before I saw the orcs, but I couldn’t really focus on either with water rushing into my mouth and nose and ears, and the wetter the barrel became, the more difficult I found it to keep my hold on it. The dwarves were yelling, and I saw quick flashes of feet and robes and bows that told me that the elves had noticed our absence and come to chase us too while they helped fend off the orcs, but I couldn’t understand much.

                My vision flashed black periodically, sometimes found myself unable to breathe, and I heard Kili often, heard him cursing wildly and sometimes even managed to make out my own name. Sometimes I felt whoever was in the barrel I clutched grab at the back of my shirt to try and drag me in with them, but the river was too rough and my clothes too wet for whoever it was to manage. I noticed very quickly when we hit the metal gate and couldn’t go any further, though, just as I noticed Kili leap from his barrel to pull the lever. I saw his eyes on me, and I saw the arrow strike his leg, and felt suddenly ill.

                I called for him, and my only comfort was that I could hear him call for me as well, saw him manage to leap into the barrel, again, but then we were rushing forwards once more and I could hardly even focus on keeping myself from drowning. Worry bit at me the whole way, dark and nagging even as my body crashed against stones and new bruises and cuts marred my skin. The river ride seemed to last hours, the fighting between the orcs and the elves raging wild around us, and finally managed to scrabble onto an empty, upturned barrel so that I could be a little less a slave to the river’s wiles.

                The dwarves, at least, were not helpless, joining in the fray with weapons taken from Orcish hands, but I could not see Kili and my heart ached and burned. The sight of land was the greatest blessing I could’ve known, and the moment we struck it I leapt from my barrel and sought him out. I did not like what I found.  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guys, I have a little bit of bad news to go along with the whole I-moved-and-writing-time-fled-for-a-bit thing; literally all of my files with all of my new fics are gone. My computer messed up, I had to restore it back to factory condition, and my backup was sort of a bust, so it all kind of went bye bye. That might slow down posting too, a little; sorry about that, but hey, I'll try and do my best, and possibly rewrite the ones I really liked.

When I found Kili, it was with Fili and Bofur hunched not too far away, watching worriedly as he dabbed at the ugly, bloody wound on his thigh. I found myself at his side before I could even think of moving, and he looked away from me, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as I knelt to get a better look at the injury. Bofur spared us only a quick glance before apparently finding something better to do, while Fili, though obviously still worried, managed to twist his lips into a fair approximation of his usual teasing smirk. I was too busy examining his leg to put much thought into the reason behind that particular look. 

The more I saw of the wound, the more I wished for some of the healing salves Oin had had, before our supplies had been destroyed or lost, or at least for Gandalf, who knew at least enough healing magic to deal with this, but as it stood, all I had was enough sense to tell the others what was wrong and hope someone knew at least something that we could do. I didn't enjoy that helpless feeling. 

"Thorin!" I called when I saw him walk by, "Thorin, Kili's hurt. Have we anything to clean his leg, or bind it?" Kili himself frowned, squirming a bit where he was settled and flinching at the motion, but that flinch only made him look more disgusted with himself. 

"Bilbo, I'm fine, I promise," he murmured, just as Thorin said we didn't have time and he and Dwalin started talking about how to negotiate the lake with the Orc-pack just behind us. I frowned, trying to get him to look me in the face but he still refused, cheeks faintly pink, and I couldn't even tell if it was from embarrassment or the start of sickness. 

"You are most certainly not fine, Kili, you've a hole in your leg, in case you hadn't noticed," I snapped, and he flinched again, still looking stubbornly away. 

"I can still walk! I've had worse before, Bilbo, I swear, I can still-," he tried, but I cut him off, tearing a wide strip of fabric from my coat and dipping it in the river, scrubbing at it until it was as free of dirt as was possible. Thorin called that we could spare five minutes, and I nodded, cleaning the wound, wringing the fabric dry, and wrapping it around Kili's leg. He sat silently and let me do it, but I could see that it was a grudging acceptance, his face a little darker than was usual and a strange look in his eyes.

With each strip of fabric I tore from my coat, he winced a little more, as if the old, ragged coat were really so important to him. I was so focused on my work that I hardly noticed the bowman come upon us until I heard Balin start attempting to negotiate our passage, soft voice lying about who we were with an ease I hadn't thought him capable of, though still it was obvious that the Man didn't believe him. In the end, though, his own dire situation and the promise of double the gold was enough to convince him to let us board. I only barely managed to get Kili to let me help him onto the barge, and spared a glance for Fili in the hopes that his expression would help me discover why Kili was acting so strangely. It did remarkably little good, as it seemed his face had changed not at all since the last time I looked. 

I sighed, carefully settling Kili in the midst of the others, where it was warmest, before I went to stand by the Man, hoping at least to get to know him some, and perhaps to make certain that he wouldn't betray us once he was paid. He hadn't immediately struck me as the type, of course, but truly I supposed it would do no harm to make certain. I put on the best smile I could in the midst of the frozen lake, and held out my hand for him to shake. He did it warily, brow raised on his thin, rangy face, and nodded his greeting to me. His hands were callused similarly to Kili's; he most certainly knew how to use the bow he carried. 

"Good to meet you, Master Bargeman," I said, and he allowed a thin smile to tilt his lips, though it did little to soften the hard, hungry lines of his face.

"You may call me Bard. Forgive me if I am wrong, but you don't look much like a Dwarf." I chuckled quietly, shivering as I realized suddenly why tearing my coat was perhaps not the best idea I'd had, though not truly regretting it simply because of how it had surely helped Kili.

"Oh, no, you're quite right; I'm a Hobbit, you see. Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, at your service." A trace of confusion touched his face, but then I'd gotten quite used to that, given that none I'd come across could quite understand why I was amongst the Dwarves. He didn't ask, though he obviously wanted to, instead only nodding his head and fixing his stare on the treacherous waters of the lake.

"You keep strange company," he said instead, and I grinned, nodding.

"Strange indeed, but pleasant. I'm glad of them." He didn't comment again, instead falling silent as death, and I expected that that was his usual state. Still, I felt myself begin to trust him, in a way; he was grim-faced and large, and I'm sure that he could've easily found motive to betray us, whether for reward or simple distaste, but I did not think he would. He seemed... honorable, in a way, honestly rather a bit like Thorin, though I expected he wouldn't have been glad to hear that. I stood by him for a while, sometimes making quiet, unimportant conversation, but normally simply being silent, until finally Bard sighed and glanced down at me. 

"Why has that dwarf been glaring at me from the moment he came aboard this barge? The others obviously don't care for me, but they've at least shown it by ignoring me." He jerked his head towards Kili. I sighed, my fondness surely seeping through as I shook my head.

"Kili? Don't worry too much over it, it's only his nature, I'm afraid. Were I you I'd simply be glad that he's mostly learned to control it, else he'd be aiming an arrow at your head." He didn't seem to entirely understand, and I smiled again, feeling suddenly warmer despite the cold. "He's my betrothed, you see, and Dwarves have rather a large jealous streak." He hid his surprise well, and managed another faint, narrow smile.

"I wish you well, then," he said, and I thanked him, deciding to spend the rest of the journey with Kili. The Company parted for me easily, and I curled at Kili's side, checking his leg again when he was too distracted with wrapping an arm around me and tugging me close to notice me doing it, a small smile on his face despite the lingering pain he tried to hide.

"You know I can still fight, right?" he mumbled, and I tilted my head. He closed his eyes, leaning back some and letting out a sigh. "It's only a little wound. I'm not so weak that that would bring me down." I frowned, trying to lean up to get a good look at him but he clutched me a little more tightly to keep me close at his side.

"Kili, do you think that I consider you weak simply because I wished to bandage your leg?" I asked, and felt him twitch, his odd behavior becoming suddenly clear. "You know, I love you fiercely, but you really can be quite foolish sometimes," I sighed, and he wriggled again.

"What? Is it really so strange that I would think that? My mother's the only one who's ever fussed over me like that," he grumbled, and I couldn't hold back a quiet, easy laugh.

"Do you think that I'm weak, Kili?" I asked, light and easy, and his eyes shot open as he sat up to gape at me.

"Of course not! You're the strongest person I've ever met, next to mother and Uncle Thorin," he said, completely assured of himself, and I smiled, a little flush coming to my own cheeks at the compliment.

"Why in the world did you worry over me so when I was moving through the dungeons, then? Or even before that?" His cheeks darkened further with sudden realization, and he cleared his throat. Fili rolled his eyes. Balin and Dwalin edged closer as if worried that he would suddenly jump on me.   

"Sorry," he murmured, and I laughed again, pecking his cheek. 

"You mustn't read so deeply into everything, Kili. I love you more than I have ever loved another, and that will not change. You are incredibly strong, very sweet, and quite handsome; so too are you clever when you wish to be, and certainly braver than you ought to be, and I couldn't imagine anyone better to spend my life beside. I cannot stand the thought of losing you either, so seeing you hurt... it bothers me just as much as it would you if the situation were reversed," I murmured, and he smiled. 

As the dwarves around us started gathering the money together to pay Bard, I settled a hand on Kili’s injured leg, only for fear to strike me again. It was far too hot, and the flush on his cheeks hadn’t faded. The wound must’ve been worse than I’d assumed, and I would’ve said as much to the others if not for Bard’s sudden orders for us to get down because of oncoming security. We all did as he asked, handing him the money he was owed and ducking back into the barrels, but I felt sick to my stomach the whole way.

* * *

 

The sudden onslaught of fish certainly didn’t help the sick feeling, nor did the fear of discovery as the barrels were inspected and we were nearly tipped into the lake. I only hoped the cloth from my coat was keeping Kili’s leg clean. Still, Bard managed well, and I’d truly have to remember to offer him my thanks soon.

He led us quickly through the city, kept prying eyes turned from us with coin, and I stayed firmly at Kili’s side, hand on his arm, helping him rush through the city. He moved with a noticeable limp, and every step obviously brought him pain. So too was his face growing paler by the moment, dark eyes shining with pain, and I clutched his arm tighter as if I thought I could help. I helped him sit again once Bard managed to get us to his house, and wished desperately that I could do something as his pain worsened further.

The only distraction I managed was hearing the tale of the day the dragon attacked Dale, but even that did more to make the mood tense than lighten it, as the Dwarves and the Men had obviously been told different versions. I held Kili a little tighter, and pecked his lips lightly as often as I could; Balin and Dwalin managed to look the other way for perhaps the first time. I think that they too were suspecting that Kili’s injury was worse than he’d let on, or than we’d expected. My stomach kept roiling. I wished I could’ve convinced Kili to stay at Bard’s with me while the others left in search of weapons, but couldn’t convince him, so still I followed, unwilling to let him out of my sight for fear that I wouldn’t see him again.

Still he kept insisting on his health, even when Thorin asked after him, desperately trying to prove his strength no matter my earlier assurances. He carried more than his share, and my heart stopped when I heard him fall. The guards fell upon us with lightning speed, blades at our necks faster than we could blink. Kili couldn’t take his eyes from mine, and I saw him try to twitch back to me even as the blade started drawing a little blood from his neck. I could hardly stand the sight of the pain and the frustration blatant on his face, and felt my own body shifting towards him, my own blood flowing in a warm, thin trickle down my throat.

The guards didn’t even have the decency to let me walk with him as they dragged us away, and rather than helping him when he stumbled, they only pushed him further. I could nearly feel his shame and wanted nothing more than to be close so that I could help him ease it, but still the guards wouldn’t let me. I am not violent by nature, but at that moment I think I could’ve drawn a blade on all of them without regret.

So caught in my anger was I that I could offer no aid when Thorin spoke for the company, and I hardly even heard the debate that Bard called. Instead I could only hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, my eyes fixed on the back of Kili’s head, and the first thing I was truly aware of again was the cheering and the feeling of my bonds loosening. I flew to Kili’s side and clutched him close; he did the same. The Master of Laketown and the man beside him stared as my lips met his again, the feel of them cold and clammy like his hand. His cheeks had gotten even paler, yet I felt fever burning in him. He could hardly walk by then and the cause suddenly struck me; the arrow that had hit him must’ve been poisoned. I squeezed his hand more firmly, pressed closer, and wished the Orc that had done it were there so that I could force the cure from its filthy mouth.

I hardly cared about the cruelty of the thought; my ring felt heavy in my pocket, just as the weight of my worry and my fear and my helplessness was enormous in the pit of my stomach. I wished I knew more of herbs and poisons, and when, that night in the Master’s home, I told my suspicions to Oin, I could see that he wished the same.

I spent the night in Kili’s room, and again, Balin and Dwalin didn’t protest, their eyes heavy and sad and the hopelessness of the situation settled over my mind like a shroud. I didn’t speak of my fears with Kili, instead doing my best to keep the conversation light and easy between us. He seemed to know, though, and as dawn began to peek through the window, he pulled me close and slid something small from his pocket, pressing it into my hands.

“Kili?” I asked, quiet, and he smiled a soft, serious smile through his pain, so different from the wide, laughing grin I loved so very much.

“My mother gave me that, before I left. The runes mean ‘return to me.’ She was… scared that I wouldn’t, even if she never admitted it. She thought me reckless, after all,” he said, the smile turning for a moment into something more familiar before it faded again. “It’s been one of the most important things to me since the start of the quest. I… want you to have it, okay? I’ve been meaning to give it to you for a while.” My heart seemed to stop in my chest, denial a noose tied tight about it.

“Kili, no, I couldn’t-,” I began, but he shook his head.

“Yes, you can. I don’t think… I’m going to try and come, but I don’t think Uncle will let me; he’s… disappointed in me, I think, and I know he doesn’t think I’m fit enough to help. Think of it like a promise, alright? You’ve got to come back to me, okay? And if… if you do, and you find that something’s happened, you’ve got to give it back to my mother for me.” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it, and I felt tears beading in my eyes, hot and frustrating as I threw my arms around Kili’s neck. A matching wetness appeared on my own throat, and I clutched the little token so tightly that I was certain an impression of the runes would be left on my palm. Kili’s hands shook where they were wrapped tightly around my waist. I didn’t blame him for it, for my own were shaking too.

“Please be well for me, Kili,” I whispered, and silence filled the room because if there was one thing I knew of him, it was that he would not make a promise he wasn’t certain he could keep.

“You know that I’ll fight,” he answered, the best he could give, and I heard myself laugh, sharp and perhaps even a bit bitter. I couldn’t respond, and I don’t know for how long we sat clutching one another like that before Fili came to bring us to the boat.

* * *

 

In the end, Kili was right; Thorin did not allow him to go, and though I knew Kili had expected it, I could still see the anger flashing on his face. Oin stayed with him, and Fili too, though that obviously upset Thorin as well, and before I knew it, I was begging to stay as well.

“Please, Thorin, I cannot… I cannot leave him alone,” I said, and Thorin looked away, face pained.

“I am sorry, Burglar, to you and to him both, but I cannot let you stay. We need you.”

“I will come as soon as I know that he will be alright, but I can’t simply-,” I began, and this time, it was Kili who stopped me.

“It’s alright, Bilbo,” he managed, and I could see the sickness growing worse with every passing moment. “I’ll be alright. You’ve got to go, but remember, you’ve got to come back to me too, alright?” I felt tears beading in my eyes again, and clenched them shut for a moment to make certain that none fell, before I took in a deep breath and nodded. I stepped onto the boat, Thorin at my back, and we sailed away, towards the final stretch of our journey, towards Erebor. No matter the necessity of it all, I still felt as if my heart were being torn from my chest with every inch we sailed.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry about the lateness of this! Losing what little I had of it honestly hit me a little harder than I figured it would, since I sort of lost my train of thought on it, but hopefully this will still please at least a bit, and I'll try to have a full-length chapter together next week!

Kili’s POV            

I couldn’t stand feeling weak, but at that moment, I couldn’t describe myself any other way. My chest felt so heavy that I could barely breathe, and by the time we got back to Bard’s home, I certainly couldn’t stand on my own. I almost felt angry with the others for being able to support me so easily, old insecurities about how un-dwarfish I looked creeping back like monsters in a dungeon.

                Honestly I was mostly just surprised that Bard let us back into his house; after all, he hadn’t exactly been happy when he saw us last. Still, I guess he was too noble to just leave me outside to die; Bilbo had kind of suggested that about his character during our night in the Master’s home, even if I hadn’t quite believed him then. He let me stretch across his table, too long, too high, too hard, and too brittle for it to be comfortable. The way I felt, though, I didn’t think anything could’ve made me comfortable.

                Bard had his kids help where they could, fetching cold water and rags to help my fever, grabbing what meagre medicines they had on the off chance that something might help. I watched Oin shake his head at all of it, watched Bofur’s eyes flashing with desperate thoughts, watched Fili try to smile and reassure me, and shut my eyes. Even the flat, dim light in the room was starting to sting. I probably would’ve done it even if my head didn’t ache, though; I was sick of the younger girl staring at me like I was a rabid dog, and Fili probably needed a rest from the painfully false smile on his face.

                I wasn’t lying there for long before the world started blurring in and out anyway. I felt like I was floating underwater, voices low and droning and touch distant and too heavy. I felt like I was burning, worse than any other fever I’d ever had. Every time my eyes flashed open, it seemed I was in a new place, new people surrounding me. A moment passed back in the Blue Mountains, my mother and Fili in the room, Fili thanking her for helping me and though her answer almost made sense, it didn’t come out in her voice.

                “I have felt the loss of many I love, my wife high among them. I do not wish the hobbit to suffer the same pain.” I remembered where I was for the barest of moments, remembered that Bard was the one trying to help, but the mention of Bilbo made me drift again and I was in his hobbit hole once more, laying on his overstuffed bed instead of the hard table. He was there too, smiling beside the bed, dressed as he’d been when we first met, comfortable and prim and perfect, and I felt myself smile and heard myself say his name. He didn’t respond but I felt him hold my hand even though I guess it had to have been someone else.

                Every now and then someone fed me something, or wiped my face, but I never knew who it really was because it always looked like someone different. Every now and then it was even someone who was actually there. Eventually, I started feeling a little better; I guess whatever it was that they gave me was probably what kept me alive for more than a few hours.

                It didn’t stop the hallucinating, though, not entirely. I still saw people, even heard them sometimes, reached out to touch them when I could, called their names often even when they didn’t respond. Because of that, when Tauriel came, I didn’t quite understand that she was real at first. Her voice was as distant and muzzy as all the others, but it was distinctly _hers_ ; the elfish cadence to it was distinct, after all, and she was the only elf I’d ever spoken with enough to really recognize it. She spoke quickly and urgently; I guessed I probably wasn’t looking very well. Her hands were light and quick over me, voice lightening and lilting over words I never could’ve hoped to recognize.

                The way it sounded was still calming, though, and I felt myself drifting farther away, into a real sleep instead of the half-state I’d been stuck in for so long. I didn’t realize that she’d saved my life until I next awoke, though, my mind strangely clear for the first time since the barrels. Mostly, though, I think I was just a little surprised at how easy it was to breathe all of a sudden.

                My brother appeared like magic at my side, then; he had a habit of that, especially when I was hurt. I managed a smile and I think he was mostly just trying not to cry. I reached out clumsily to try and grab his arm; I hadn’t moved enough since I ended up on the table for the attempt to be anything but. Still, it worked well enough even if I probably slapped him a little too hard in the attempt, and he was too happy to care.

                “Kili,” he breathed, “Kili. The elf woman, she saved your life, but I don’t have anything I can use to thank her. She said something about meeting Bilbo.” The words made me laugh, a little, harsh in my throat and serving mostly to make me realize how thirsty I was. He pressed a mug to my lips, one full of water I hoped was clean, and even though it was warm, it was a blessing.

                “Tricky beast,” I grumbled, not really meaning it, “I knew she’d figure out some way to make me introduce them. She helped keep me sane when we were in Thranduil’s dungeons; she’s good company, elf or no. Is she still here?” He nodded, looking a little bemused but probably not willing to question too much. I could understand that. If he’d been the one in my state, I didn’t think I’d have been able to care either. He called for her and we spoke a while, all three of us, the other members of the company who stayed with me and Bard’s family eventually joining us as well.

                It was almost pleasant, in a way, if lacking, and I think they knew that I mostly only partook in order to keep my worry over Bilbo from making me go insane. I couldn’t stand the idea of him going into Erebor alone, of him being so close to something so deadly with me too far away to help or to even know if something went wrong. No one would want to tell me if it did, either; Uncle would probably hardly be able to look at me, after he’d been the one to say how badly they needed Bilbo with them. Just the thought of him being gone made my heart ache miserably, but like I said, talking with the others helped. I almost thought that maybe things had gone right for once when the city began to burn.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, I did it, finally! A new, full-length chapter, after ages of you guys not getting one! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and there will probably only be one to two more chapters of this!

                The world was still fuzzy when Tauriel said that we had to go, and I felt Fili pulling at my arm right away, telling me to come on and even though it ached I stood on my own. I wanted to be walking on my own feet when I saw Bilbo again, wanted to show him that I was alright, that I would live; he was surely worried to death, after all, and even as the dragon flew outside, awake and enraged, I couldn’t imagine that he or any of the others was dead. He was far too clever to fall to a dragon, and I had to remember that; if I didn’t, I knew I probably wouldn’t even bother leaving Bard’s house.

                His children argued, some, but I would’ve as well if it were my mother I was leaving. Tauriel’s words, though, and the way the house shook as the dragon flew overhead, convinced at least the boy to try and save his sisters. Honestly I’d been too far gone to even notice the grave man’s absence until then and it almost made me feel a little cruel after all he’d done for me despite certainly not having to do it. I tried to focus on looking for him, thinking of a way that I could help if I saw him, instead of my fears as we all climbed onto Bard’s small, sturdy boat and started paddling away.

                The dragon swooped overhead, loud and graceful and chilling, blotting out the light of the moon for one quick, horrifying moment. Fili couldn’t take his eyes away and I didn’t blame him for that as fire spilled from its mouth. The world blurred with heat; the forges of the Blue Mountains may as well have been a snowstorm by comparison. Our boat struck that of the Master’s and gold spilled into the water, his voice chasing after every piece as if its loss tore out his heart, and I couldn’t stand the sound. Fili clutched my arm and I realized that I’d been half-standing, almost preparing to jump after him. Their boat passed and he let me go again, his face shadowed and frightened despite his attempts to hide it, and worry even touched Tauriel’s normally smooth, flat features. I was sure that I looked worse.

                Oin and Bofur were strong enough to keep us moving at a pretty fast pace, especially with help from Fili and Bard’s children. The desolation made my chest ache and the only thing I could hope was that Erebor still stood with the rest of the Company waiting inside; I couldn’t stand the idea of failing now, of losing everything I’d only just found. The bell in the center of town rang loud and mocking. We just kept sailing on. I tried not to meet the eyes of the people we couldn’t save.

                Then, though, I heard the boy cry out for his father, saw the man standing on the bell tower, arrow flying true from his bow. It struck the dragon, simple as breathing; I saw it clearly. It wasn’t strong enough to hurt it, though; it didn’t even seem to notice. Tauriel confirmed that, but the boy… I saw his face change and I knew exactly what he planned as soon as he reached for the hook. I tried to stop him anyway, but again I could only imagine what I would do if it were someone I loved up there and knew that I would do the same thing. I think Fili did as well; he didn’t even reach for the boy. Tauriel led us on. I hoped I’d see him again and tried to comfort his sisters as best I could.

                In the end, I still couldn’t help but think of Bilbo, Bilbo who was eternally hopeful, Bilbo who was forever bright, Bilbo who had a smile like pure sunshine. I tried to keep up the same hope even though I wasn’t quite as good at it, and I huddled close to the girls and to Fili, staring at the blazing sky while everything burned around me. The girls cried; I might have done the same. Tauriel stayed tall and strong and not exactly hopeful but definitely determined. She directed the boat like a master and then… I almost couldn’t believe it, but then, the dragon fell. I saw the end of an arrow jutting from its side as it did. The boy must’ve brought Bard the Black Arrow, and he’d done it. Smaug was dead. I swallowed heavily, and still on we sailed until at last we struck the shore again.

                Tauriel left with the girls right away, looking for their father and their brother. I tried to help as many as I could onto the shore, even though I knew that it wasn’t much. It was better than nothing, though, and I could see at least that people appreciated it. Not much time passed before the others were ready to set off again, though, and I felt my chest tighten. It was time to see what had happened, if everyone else was still alive. I swallowed, seeking Tauriel in the crowd, and offered her the best smile I could muster. She returned it, a little sadness painting her face, and I stepped a little closer to her, ignoring the others for a moment.

                “Be safe, Kili,” she said, soft, and I snorted.

                “When have you ever known me to be anything but?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

                “Forever and always, my friend. Say hello to your hobbit for me, alright? I still look forward to meeting him.” My smile turned a little more real; she believed that he was still alive too, and that… I knew it didn’t prove anything, but it still made me feel better, more like things would still be alright despite all that had happened.

                “Of course. You be safe too, alright?” I said, and she nodded, turning her head away to face the blonde elf who had crept towards us from presumably some distance away. Apparently his name was Legolas. Somehow, I didn’t much care for him, as if that’s a surprise. Still, I left pretty quickly after his arrival, unwilling to cause a fight over his lingering misunderstanding of my relationship with Tauriel, and eager to get to Erebor for the chance of seeing Bilbo again. I hugged her once, tightly and firmly, and then leapt into the boat one last time.

                We sailed in silence, all of us lost in our thoughts and staring at the massive mountain kingdom. We started climbing the moment we reached the base and my body throbbed miserably the whole way up. Fili offered me his arm more than once; I didn’t take it even though I could almost hear Bilbo scolding me. Finally, though, we reached the top and took our first steps inside.

                It really was massive, all arching ceilings and gargantuan statues of our forebears, staring off into oblivion. We called for the Company, voices echoing through the cavernous halls, and it didn’t take long for the silence to start wearing on me. We walked slowly; I think by the time we got close to the treasury, all of us were expecting to find corpses in place of our loved ones. Then, though, I heard the most wonderful, fantastic thing possible; Bilbo’s voice rang through the halls, calling for us to wait, and I saw him bound towards us, dirty and scraped and bruised but so amazingly alive that I couldn’t help but grab him in my arms right away.

                He clutched me too, fists curled tightly in the back of my coat, cheek pressed against my neck, and I pressed kisses to every part of him I could reach. I whispered silly, sweet things into his ears, telling him how overjoyed I was to see him again, and heard him whisper back, telling me how glad he was that I was alive, how happy he was to see me smile again. It felt like heaven. He ran his hands through my hair and pressed his own kisses to my neck and my face when he could, but he pulled away far too soon, stepping back just slightly so that he could look at all of us. There was fear in his eyes, genuine and sharp for its rarity.

                “We need to leave. All of us need to leave,” he said, gesturing widely towards us and towards the stairs that, according to the ones who’d been here before, would lead to the main treasury. Bofur frowned.

                “We’ve only just gotten here,” he said, and that normally would have made Bilbo laugh, but now he was silent and grave. He reached out and took my hand, squeezing it tightly as if for comfort.

                “I know, but I think… there’s a curse on this place, I fear. Thorin… I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t _listen_ ,” he mumbled, shaking his head, the hand I wasn’t holding wavering wildly.

                “What kind of curse,” I asked, honestly a little confused, but I could see understanding shine on Fili’s face just as easily as I could see him hoping that he was wrong.

                “He’s been down there for days, not sleeping and barely eating,” Bilbo continued, heedless of my question, and suddenly Fili was running down the stairs, Bilbo and I chasing after him and the others just behind us.

                Uncle Thorin stood alone in the center of the cavern, face shadowed and dark, but he still offered a narrow smile when he saw us. He didn’t look like himself, though, not really; firm as he’d been, there had always been a warmth to him, a certainty that he loved us fiercely. Now, though… I could almost see the ice in his eyes. He mentioned Thror, then, and I knew suddenly what Fili had suspected; gold sickness. It was overcoming him just as it had his grandfather. After all the stories I’d heard of Erebor, all the tales of how glorious it was, how it was mine and Fili’s birthright… I’d been sure that I would be overjoyed when I got here. Instead, I wished that I was back home in the Blue Mountains, or maybe warm and comfortable in front of Bilbo’s hearth at Bag End. That place somehow felt colder, less welcoming, than the elven dungeons. Uncle just smiled and threw a massive ruby to Fili welcoming us to Erebor. I wanted to be ill.

                Bilbo’s hand kept me grounded. Thorin gestured for the both of us to come down, and I didn’t dare refuse. I guess Bilbo probably didn’t either.

                “You worried much over being able to court him properly,” he said when we were before him, hand heavy on my shoulder. “I now offer you the chance to give him something truly worthy of so fine a partner. Take whatever you will; there is no limit. Fili, I will offer you the same boon upon the arrival of your own intended.” I shouldn’t have been as tempted as I was, I knew that; all the gold, though, the jewels, the necklaces, the crowns, the rings, the bracelets… some part of me did want to shower him in it all. I swallowed, my throat tight, and Bilbo turned to face me worriedly, his brow creased a little and his lips turned down into a frown. I didn’t like making him worry so much.  

                “Thorin, that is a very… generous offer, but I couldn’t accept it,” Bilbo tried, smiling kindly, but Thorin only laughed, low and dark, shaking his head.

                “I will not have people saying that my nephew is a poor suitor, Burglar, and if any is worthy of a prince’s gifts it is you. In any case, his peace of mind demands it as much as mine; I was not lying when I spoke of his worry that he could not court him properly. He is wise enough when it suits him, after all, and he knew that he had little to offer beyond a title that meant nothing at the time. Though you were kind in accepting his offer even then, when all he could give was a jeweled blade crafted by my hand instead of his own and a wooden bead more suited to a peasant than a prince, it is time for him to prove himself to you properly.” The words made me feel cold, even though I knew they weren’t intended to.

                I wouldn’t lie and say that I hadn’t felt that way before, hadn’t felt a little disgusted with myself that all I could give were simple, sentimental things when he deserved the finest, but to hear it said so blatantly, and from my own uncle… it ached. I’d long known that I didn’t deserve him, and maybe that was why jealousy had eaten at me so angrily, why bitter thoughts of former hobbit lovers so much better, more experienced than myself sometimes flashed through my mind, but I just… Bilbo squeezed my arm, settling one hand on his hip and frowning at Uncle fiercely.

                “I’m quite fond of my gifts, actually,” he said, slipping his hand in his pocket and squeezing something that I somehow knew was my rune stone, shaking his head a little to show off the wooden bead still settled firmly at the end of a braid. Thorin laughed.

                “I am sure you are; I assure you that I have not forgotten how fond you are of simple things. If you are to live in Erebor, however, it will be viewed as quite improper if Kili has not given you prettier things; they will think that he values you no more than wood and another’s work, and that they would be therefore free to try for you themselves. Some would likely even suggest that Fili or myself take your hand instead, as one so integral in the reclamation of Erebor is worthy only of a spouse of Durin’s blood.” The gold shimmered pleasantly underfoot and all around, like so much magic. Uncle was right, and I knew that. Bilbo gaped at me.

                “We can deal with that as it happens. I’m not going to act as if Kili needs to give me extravagant things I have no use for to prove that he cares for me,” he said, firm, but I shook my head.

                “It doesn’t work that way,” I managed, voice cracking a little, “not for dwarves from Durin’s line. If they say the courtship wasn’t valid for any reason, I can’t… we can’t marry.” I bent, pawing through the piles for a moment and finding so many beautiful things and nothing quite beautiful enough and Bilbo just stared at me, lips still parted. Then, though, he simply sighed.

                “If you insist on this, Kili, why not make me something yourself, once things have been cleaned up a bit?” Uncle looked thoughtful, for a moment, and then nodded.

                “That would be better. I will provide you with the gold, when the time comes; any would understand if you said that you did not think that anything made by someone else’s hands for another person’s intended would suit your hobbit.” I nodded and Bilbo turned me away from the glistening piles of treasures. It actually hurt, a little, and I realized suddenly what he’d seen, what he was trying to protect me from. The same thing that was overtaking Thorin was in my blood as well, and Fili’s too, if the way he turned the ruby in his hands was any indication. I could’ve kissed him, then, if I hadn’t thought that Uncle would notice, and I didn’t dare upset him too much then.

                I didn’t know if the sickness was reversible, either, and I think that scared me the most, the idea of losing my strong, stalwart Uncle to a sickness of the mind, and the idea that I could lose myself to the same thing. I shuddered, holding Bilbo a little tighter and swearing to myself that I would stay away from the treasury as much as possible. I refused to lose myself, and I repeated that in my head over and over for the rest of the day, even while we sat in the great hall of Erebor and ate a meagre dinner from what was left of our rations.

                Thorin ate as fast as was possible and fled back to the treasury. The others, who’d emerged from various corners of the treasury where they’d been hunting for the Arkenstone not long after Bilbo took me away, pretended that they didn’t notice that anything was wrong with him. We all tried desperately to act like everything was normal, like everything was going to resolve itself now that the dragon was dead. I wished that I really believed it, and slept with Bilbo curled against my chest, half-afraid that I’d never have the opportunity again.

                The next morning, when the people of Laketown came and we refused them shelter, even going so far as to barricade the entrance, I knew that I was right. The elves came not long after, and Bard came to beg for what they were owed. Thorin refused even as Bilbo and I begged him to reconsider. He was too caught up in his wealth, in the gold, to care that we’d all given our word. We’d thrown our honor from the mountain, and now… now, there was war on the horizon, and I knew Thorin wouldn’t let us avoid it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably just one chapter to go! The next major thing I'm planning to work on is Bilbo/Smaug, but if anyone has any requests for after that, just let me know! I'm sort of a blank slate now thanks to the Great Computer Crash!

                I tried as hard as I could to keep Bilbo close as we started preparing for war, and I looked as hard as I could to find armor that would fit him, but there was nothing. He was too small for even the smallest mail shirts we could find, and my worry mounted with every moment. I didn’t want to fight, not with so few of us against an army of them, and even though Thorin had implied that we might have help on the horizon, I still didn’t like our odds. Still, I knew we didn’t have a choice—I just wanted to keep Bilbo from the crossfire.

                What was worse was how distracted he seemed, constantly feeling for something in his pocket, eyes whipping fearfully around every room he entered. He was hiding something. I wasn’t brave enough to ask him what, even though it hurt a little that he would keep it from even me. Not to mention how easily he was able to slip away from me no matter how hard I tried to stay beside him. A million potential causes flashed through my mind every single time I couldn’t find him; maybe he’d climbed the gate and an elvish arrow had pierced his heart, or maybe he’d gone exploring the mountain and found an unstable tunnel or bridge. Fili, desperate to try and keep me calm and himself sane, joked that I was certain to wear a new path through the mountain with my pacing. Despite that, I was normally only able to sit down when my thigh started to hurt enough that I could hardly move it.

                Honestly it got to the point that I was contemplating tying my arm to his so I’d be sure to know where he was, but then again he’d probably slip the rope as easy as breathing. I sighed; at least he was with me for the moment, settled at my side while my brother pawed through armor, looking for something he could wear and still have mobility. Obviously there weren’t many options, given how few dwarves fought like he and I did, relying on speed rather than strength alone, but eventually he came across something made mostly of thick leather that would function well enough.

                “Have you found anything, Kili? Archer or not, I’d rather you not try to fight an army in your shirtsleeves,” he called to me, and I nodded. I’d happened upon a very long, golden mail coat that fit me well the evening before. Bilbo frowned, eyes cast down to one side.

                “I am yet hoping that I might be able to convince Thorin to treat and stop this madness,” he said, voice soft, and I felt myself frown.

                “Is that what you’ve been doing all those times I couldn’t find you?” I asked, and he offered me a pale, gentle smile. He looked tired. My heart clenched.

                “I suppose. More I expect I’ve just been trying to get him to leave the treasury and sleep, but I imagine I may as well be trying to get him to move to Mirkwood.” I couldn’t respond to that. Fili and I had talked, a bit, about Uncle’s… condition, and though it hurt both of us to admit it, neither of us saw much chance of recovery. The gold-sickness, after all, was not something that often let its victims go free. Even he and I, despite being aware of it and our own susceptibility to it, felt pangs of it every now and then, a deep, gnawing desire to go to the treasury and never leave again.

                “We need something for Bilbo too,” I said instead, not willing to tell Bilbo that when I could see how worried he already was.

                “I know. I’ve kept an eye out for anything in his size, but not even one of the leather doublets would fit.”

                “Why in the world do I need armor?” he asked, laughing a little, and I can admit that I gaped at him, a little.

                “I know you’re not fighting, but that doesn’t mean someone won’t try to bring the fight to you. You’re fast and your smart, but I don’t doubt the elves or men could get in a lucky shot before you outwitted them, and I don’t want that lucky shot to be a fatal one.”

                “My thoughts exactly,” Uncle said, voice low and gold-harsh, blue eyes as sharp as ice shards. He had something draped over his arm and he was coming towards us with purpose. Awful as it made me feel, I couldn’t help the spark of fear that shot up my spine, and I held Bilbo a little closer in response. I guessed one thing that I could be glad of was that Balin and Dwalin were far too busy to play chaperone anymore. My grip didn’t stop him from hauling Bilbo to his feet by his arm, though, his own hand strong and firm. I swallowed; images of dwarf nobles danced in my mind, and I knew that even if the courtship between he and I had been entirely by the book, plenty would still disapprove. I was the spare prince, after all, the one who’d never have a crown and the one who’d never taken anything seriously; why, they would say, should I deserve the hand of the beautiful, exotic outsider who’d faced down the dragon and allowed us to regain our mountain? Such a spouse was worthy only of the king himself.

                “Thorin?” he asked, and he smiled thinly, almost like himself but still too tight around the edges.

                “Here; an early wedding gift. It should serve you well,” he said, releasing Bilbo’s arm and unfolding what he held over his arm, revealing it to be some sort of mail coat far too small for any of the rest of us to wear. The links were astoundingly thin and fine, and it didn’t look particularly strong, but it did shimmer strangely, almost enticingly, in the hall’s low, reddish light. I didn’t have any idea what it was, but Fili looked enthralled, his eyes following the almost fabric-like sway of the coat.

                “I don’t-,” Bilbo tried, but Uncle cut him off with a shake of his head.

                “Hush; call it part of your share if you must, but I am like my nephew in that I would rather you not die in the coming days, both for the sake of his heart and for my own. It is silver-steel, or mithril as it was once called. No blade can pierce it.” The name jogged my memory, and I found myself just as amazed as Fili with hardly a thought. Mithril was… well, it was rare, to be sure, and I’d heard the legends of how strong it was. To see so much of it in one place, when all I’d seen before was a thin line of it inset into the pommel of my mother’s favorite dagger, was… honestly a little overwhelming. I think that was what told me how extensive the wealth here really was; no one would even dream of being able to make something like that now, when the mithril mines of Moria were lost.

                “Bilbo, please take it,” I heard myself say, quick and maybe a little sharper than I intended, but Uncle was right about no blade being able to pierce it, and I desperately wanted Bilbo to have its protection.

                “I… alright, I suppose,” he said, picking up the bottom edge of the coat with ease and shimmying into it, Uncle helping where he could. It still hung a little large on him, the neck more generous than I would’ve liked, but it surely offered more protection for him than anything else we could’ve found, and that was enough for me. “I look absurd. I’m a hobbit, not a warrior,” he grumbled, edging back over to me, and leaning easily into my side again. Uncle chuckled.

                “Indeed. I hope that you will not have to fight, but should it come to that, I say again that I too wish for you to have protection. Fili, Kili, I suggest that you both continue preparing; I expect we’ve precious little time before they attempt to attack.” With that, he turned and swept away, every inch a king instead of my Uncle. I missed the man who’d helped raise me, who’d been the nearest thing to a father I knew, who’d given me advice in all things, suddenly and fiercely.

                “Bilbo?” I asked, not really knowing what I wanted only that I wanted.

                “Yes?”

                “Tonight… Fili, do you mind if Bilbo and I leave? I just… I want to talk to him tonight,” I said, and he rolled his eyes like he had so many weeks before, when I had been too foolish to see that Bilbo was my One.

                “Go,” he said, waving us off, “If anyone comes, I’ll tell them you’re off looking for armor and giving Bilbo a few last minute sword fighting tips. I’m sick of watching you cuddle anyway.” My brother. I laughed, louder than I had in a long time, and it felt good. He laughed along with me, and Bilbo soon joined in as well, shaking his head as I led him away.

                I led him to a small room I’d found, one with a bed, even if it was ancient and dusty. He looked pleased even still; we’d gone a pretty long time without a bed, after all. I pulled the dusty blankets off to reveal that they’d kept the bed itself pretty clean, then shook out the pillows until they were at least mostly usable, and plopped onto it, swinging my legs up. Bilbo joined me quickly, settling his head on my chest, and I didn’t speak for a while, enjoying the closeness. Finally, though, I had to speak.

                “Hey, Bilbo?”

                “Hm?”

                “How do… will you tell me how hobbits court, now? I know you said it would probably scandalize me and all, but I want to know.” I felt him laugh, a little, and heard him hum before he spoke.

                “It starts simply enough, I suppose. Official courtships can only begin at a party, though unofficial ones start often through kisses and long walks and such. In any case, to make it official, a couple shares three dances, never parting for another offer, and share a table all night, though others are able to share in that. Then, at the end of the party, they share a kiss and they say that Yavanna then smiles upon the courtship in the hopes that it will be fruitful.” I tilted my head.

                “That’s all?”

                “That’s all that’s officially written. What comes next is mostly up to the couple, and I can speak only to my own experience.”

                “I still want to hear,” I said, and he tilted his head up to look at me, brows raised a little.

                “Are you certain? It’d be a poor time for you to be jealous, love,” he said, and I could admit to being a little nervous at that.

                “I won’t. I know you love me; how could you not?” I said, grinning and donning a confidence that wasn’t completely honest.

                “Quite true. You’re difficult not to love, admittedly. Alright. Well, in the public eye, I was always quite chaste, as befitted a Baggins, you understand. The most I and any of my partners ever did in public was exchange a peck or two and hold hands. We would often go out for picnics and such as well, and take walks through the woods, sometimes play with some of the children there looking for elves. Other times we’d garden, or cook; simple things, you know, but made more pleasant for being done with someone I cared for. We’d spend our nights in one house or the other, sometimes between them, learning one another’s bodies as we chose. Most courtships would last about three or four months, or thereabouts, and then one would decide whether or not a marriage ought to occur. In my case, it was never appropriate.” I grinned.

                “I’m glad of that. I don’t think I could’ve stood it if some stupid hobbit lad had ended up with you before I had the chance to sweep you off your feet with my dashing good looks and devilish charm,” I said, and he laughed again, nodding his head.

                “I expect I couldn’t have stood it either; I imagine having a hobbit for a husband would be terribly boring. I’m afraid you’ve likely got the short end of the stick in this relationship,” he said, teasingly consoling, and I rolled my eyes.

                “As if, amralime,” I mumbled, kissing the top of his head, “I’m the luckiest dwarf alive. Why did you never marry one of them, anyway? I know you said the one found someone else, but the others… there had to have been a reason.”

                “To be entirely honest, I don’t think I’d have even married the one who married someone else,” he sighed, soft. “I was always looking for something… different, I suppose. I wanted someone adventurous, someone with a bit of wildness yet in them, someone who didn’t want to just settle into Bag End and never bother to have a bit of fun again. There aren’t really many hobbits that way, you know; I’d resigned myself to bachelorhood when you came tripping into my life.” I pulled him up, a little, so that I could kiss him, and he followed easily, amber eyes slipping shut in a moment. He tangled his hands in my hair, easy, like we’d been doing this our whole lives, and I clutched at his waist.

                I liked the way he fit against me, and couldn’t help the sharply pleasant thought that any other dwarf would be just a little too big or a little too small for him to tuck into their side just so. He nipped my lower lip as he pulled away, playful and skilled, and his eyes opened slowly, amusement glistening within them.

                “I want to go back to the Shire with you, once all this is over,” I said, surprising even myself a little. I’d thought about doing that before, of course, about leaving mountains for rolling hills and fierce battles for afternoon tea, but… well, Fili did always say that my heart often decided a path before my head caught up with it. He actually jolted, surprise bright and obvious across his soft features.

                “Really?” he asked, and I nodded.

                “Yes. I think I’m… tired of this. I don’t want to be Prince Kili anymore—it never fit me anyway. I just want to be Kili, for the rest of my life. With you,” I said, keeping my expression soft instead of playful so he’d know how serious I was, and I saw him smile.

                “You’ve always only been Kili to me, you know. If you’re needed here, you know I’ll stay; I’ll be happy wherever you are.”

                “It’s the same for me, but I just… the way it was there, so simple, quiet. No one there needed gold, or swords. I think I like the idea of that. I’ll keep my bow, obviously, and I couldn’t live if I didn’t see Fili sometimes, but… I want to go back there with you. That’s your home, and I think it could be mine too,” I murmured, and he stroked my cheek lightly.

                “Alright. Consider it a promise, alright? We’ll try for a while and see if you like it there,” he said, gentle, and I smiled.

                “Okay; you know I’ll come back. Tonight, though… can I court you like a hobbit tonight?” He grinned, vibrant and beautiful and wild.

                “Of course, though I fear our guardians have a sixth sense for intimacy and will bash down the door the moment they catch wind of it.” I laughed again, freer than I’d felt in a while.

                “Let them. I don’t care anymore what the nobles will say; I’m not going to let the threat of them stop me from taking my happiness where I can get it anymore.” And with that, I felt his lips fall on mine one more time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I lied; one more chapter to go still. Sorry about that, but honestly at this point I assume you all know how terrible I am at estimations like that. Hope you enjoy anyway!

                Bilbo still obviously knew what he was doing when it came to pleasure, and I tried my best to just enjoy that rather than be jealous over it, and I succeeded at it much better than I might have a few weeks before. I’m pretty sure a big part of the reason was that he didn’t really let me think much before he’d rolled on top of me, my hands at his waist and his soft, curly hair brushing my cheeks as he kissed me. It wasn’t sweet, not like most of the kisses we’d shared. I think the both of us were too desperate, too afraid, for gentleness to be an option.

                I yanked at his coat, frustrated by the mail Uncle had given him, and felt him laugh against my lips. He handled my own clothing with a deft ease that no amount of passion could make me stop envying, thin fingers catching over leather ties and slipping them loose like velvet until it all pooled over my shoulders. I arched against him, half trying to shrug them the rest of the way off but mostly just wanting to be closer to him. I squeezed his hips more tightly and could almost feel the delicate mithril links dig marks into my fingertips. He only laughed again, teasing lips leaving mine to press kisses into my neck, sometimes nipping a little but always quick to soothe the minor ache, and the way I moved against him felt slow and clumsy compared to the way he moved against me, as if he were dancing.

                I heard myself say his name, but it hardly sounded like me, too low and too harsh, and I was sure that Fili would’ve accused me of being drunk if he’d heard me then. Bilbo trailed warm, soft fingers down my chest and followed them with more kisses, and I clenched my eyes shut, wishing I could do more and half-cursing the fact that I didn’t know what I could do and the further down he slid, the harder it was to keep my hands where they were, so I let them slip up his body while he slid down mine. I don’t think I’d ever hated his fussy little jacket more than I did right then, because I wanted nothing more than to be able to touch his skin.

                He sucked marks into my chest, and I groaned, loud and embarrassing, but he didn’t seem to mind, the fingers of one of his hands teasing my nipples while the other pulled at the ties of my breeches. I spared a thought to how good he was at multitasking and another groan mixed with a laugh—every other member of the company would probably smack me over the head if they knew I’d thought something so inane at a time like this. Or maybe they wouldn’t, really; I was pretty sure they expected me to think inane things more often than I didn’t. Another reason to care so much for Bilbo, I guessed; he was one of the few who knew that I wasn’t quite as stupid and quite as careless as I liked to pretend.

                I felt my breeches loosen and shimmied when he pulled at them, trying to help, but it was harder on a bed than it had been in the woods and he didn’t have much choice but to get off of me and do it. Not having his welcome weight on me for even that bare moment felt like a curse, and I opened my eyes only to see him smile a little at whatever expression I made before he settled between my legs and wrapped his hand loosely around me. I cried out, louder still, and felt myself flush.

                “You’ll need to be a little quieter, love. I expect you don’t want the rest of the Company to come,” he murmured, but I don’t think he understood what he was asking of me because he kept his hand on me, moving softly, just barely enough pressure to make me desperate. I bit off another choked noise and shoved my fist in my mouth, biting down and hoping no one would notice the teeth marks and ask about them because I knew I wouldn’t be able to come up with an excuse. I squeezed my eyes shut again as my hips moved with his grip, thighs clenched tight, wondering what he’d do, if maybe he’d suck me again or do something I didn’t even know, and finally I felt his lips on my hip, nipping and sucking everywhere but where I needed it most, offering me only his hand.

                I knew that I was pleading around my hand, sometimes in Westron and sometimes in Khuzdul, and I also knew that he couldn’t possibly understand a word I was saying no matter what I spoke in, and I didn’t think he’d care even if he could. He raised his mouth for a moment and I heard him shifting, fabric rustling, then heard him suck something anyway, very quiet, and I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been so desperately attuned to everything he was doing, but it was only for a moment or two anyway, and I heard him let out a soft, pleased sigh but then his mouth was on me and I could think of nothing else.

                It was different than the first time, more passionate, faster, and I couldn’t stop my hips from jerking up. He tried to pin me with an arm, and it helped some, but it was barely enough, and the hand I wasn’t using to keep myself silent twined desperately in the sheets. I writhed, felt him sigh and moan around me, and the soft vibration of the sounds only made it better. He had to have known some sort of magic though, for his tongue to have been able to move the way it did, for him to know so expertly how to move and suck and lick. If not for his warning to keep quiet, I was sure I’d have alerted everyone and everything in the mountain to what we were doing at the first touch of his tongue.

                He didn’t let me come, though, not like the first time; instead, he pulled away moments before I would’ve, hand curled around the base, and my eyes flew open again as I desperately tried to find release, but he only chuckled, quiet, easy, shaking his head. Obviously the fabric sound I’d heard earlier had been him throwing his trousers aside, but I wished he’d dealt with his other clothes as well even if I was in no state to say it.

                “I imagine you won’t want to come before we’re finished, love, but I promise that when we’ve more time and things are less… uncertain, we’ll explore everything.” It was a pretty promise, and I could only hope I’d see it fulfilled as he settled his body over mine one more time and slowly, so slowly, sank onto me. His back bowed and he moaned softly as I screamed around my hand again.

                I’d known that it would be good, when I finally got to have him, but I hadn’t dared to imagine that it would be as good as it was, tight and hot and beautiful, and my free hand quickly found its way to his hip again, the fabric of his shirt and coat and the cold mithril brushing the top half while my bottom fingers gripped bare, hot skin. He moved slowly, riding me like it was an art, like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing, and slowly, carefully, he bent so that his lips were pressed to my neck and he was breathing sweet words into my skin, telling me how much he loved me and I finally let my fist fall from my mouth so that I could whisper the same.

                Neither of us lasted long, but I was still first and I was so pleased that I barely even found a moment to be embarrassed or upset over it. Really all that honestly surprised me, though I was too tired to think on it much, was that after all was said and done he didn’t even insist on cleaning us up beyond a cursory swipe with the dusty comforter on the floor before he fell asleep on my chest, and I quickly followed.

* * *

 

Bilbo’s POV

                As I lay pretending to sleep on Kili’s chest, I felt like the worst sort of traitor, and the feeling didn’t lessen when I heard his breath steady into sleep and I crept to my feet. It had been the only way, though, and I knew that even though it pained me to think it. If he knew what I planned… well, I did not know if he would try to stop me or try to join me, but I couldn’t allow it either way. If Thorin were to kill me for this, after all, I did not want him to join me in my death for helping me just as I didn’t want the sight of the Arkenstone to make him succumb to the same illness as Thorin. No, I would do this alone, and hope that he at least wouldn’t hate me for it.

                I cleaned myself off as best I could with what I found in the room, and dressed quickly before I pressed one last light kiss to his forehead. I wondered if, in the morning, Thorin would at least let me say goodbye before he killed me or banished me for my betrayal. If not, this would have to suffice; I whispered the word against his skin and fled Erebor, the Arkenstone heavier than ever before in my jacket pocket. Finally giving it over the Thranduil and Bard was almost a relief, though it was hard to remember that when I returned and slid back into bed with Kili like the thief I had become.

* * *

 

                The moment the sun rose the next morning, I was holding my breath, and Kili knew it. He asked me what was wrong over and over, always in quiet whispers, his eyes flickering worriedly towards the others of the Company, as if he were afraid that he had been the one to do wrong, and I could only sigh and smile. Finally, though, not long after we all shared a meagre breakfast of thin broth, my moment of reckoning came—Bard and Thranduil were at the gate. I offered Kili one last kiss and whispered to him as Thorin rose, mighty and unstoppable as a storm cloud, to see why they’d come.

                “I love you now as fiercely as I ever did,” I murmured. “Please remember that, and know that all I have done has been done only out of necessity.” His obvious confusion made my heart ache, but I closed my eyes and stood, stepping a little nearer to Thorin. I knew the moment he realized what had happened. His shoulders tensed, and he let out the roar of a dying beast as he turned and rushed to me, dragging me to the top of the gate. The others gave chase, of course, but I knew how little it mattered and allowed my eyes to close as he cursed me, called me a burglar like it was an insult even though I’d done only what he’d hired me to do, and I smiled.

                “I took it as my share,” I managed, and he bellowed again, the rest of the company looking out over the gate at the Arkenstone in Thranduil’s hands, and the same realization dawned upon them. Betrayal lurked in their eyes.

                “Bilbo?” I heard Kili whisper, and I smiled again.

                “It was necessary,” I said again, and Thorin shook me, grabbing me by the collar and holding me over the gate, his grip the only thing keeping me from plummeting to the sharp stones below.

                “I should kill you,” he bit, “death is the only price for treason.” I didn’t protest. Kili did, and for a moment I wished that he would be silent because I feared that Thorin would turn on him just as quickly in his madness, thinking that Kili had helped me steal the Arkenstone and deliver it to the men and the elves.

                “Uncle, please,” he begged, and at least, I supposed he didn’t hate me, though I could still see the confusion swimming in his expression.

                “Be silent! Why now would you care for his fate, my sister son, when he has betrayed you the same as me? It is yours and your brother’s birthright that he has given them so carelessly. No dwarf’s true One could be so cruel,” he hissed, fingers loosening ever-so-slightly, until I could feel myself slipping, and I held my breath. I was ready for this, had been from the moment I’d decided what must be done.   

                “He is still my One,” he managed, eyes shimmering, and Thorin laughed, cold and dark and so horribly unlike himself that my stomach churned.

                “You are a fool to think so, and yet I cannot bring myself to shatter your heart. Fine,” he said, throwing me to the ground at Kili’s feet rather than to my death at the hands of the stones. “He is banished only, to go with the elves and the men he has chosen above us. Will that settle your mind until we find the one who is truly worthy of your hand, Kili?” It was silent for a moment or two, deathly so.

                “Let me go with him,” Kili finally said, and again my heart stopped. I wanted to beg him to be silent, to let things lie, but I could see the determination on his face and knew that I stood no chance against it. Thorin only sighed, shaking his head, and waved a hand towards Dwalin.

                “Keep an eye on him, Dwalin—make certain that he does not go chasing after the Halfling once he has left our hall. Ori, you and Dori go fetch gold for the men of Laketown and the jewels the elves want, so that the king’s jewel can be returned to its proper place.”

                “No!” Kili cried, “No, Uncle, please, I… I helped him get the Arkenstone out! I helped him!”

                “You are ever the poor liar, Kili. Go, Halfling, before my mercy wanes, and don’t dare show me your face again.” He turned away from me, and I could offer only a soft, whispered goodbye before I left Erebor, unable to look at my dearest friends and the greatest love of my heart. At least, though, I would know that they lived, that a senseless war did not take their lives. Even if I would never see them again, at least there was that. If only it were enough to make my heart stop aching so.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so, so sorry that this is so late. There are a lot of reasons for it, but suffice it to say I just got crazy busy crazy suddenly and couldn't find the time to write. Hopefully things will get better around January, but until then I'll just post when I can, and hopefully you guys will enjoy this last chapter of Learning!

The elves and men cloistered me away as soon as I appeared at the base of the mountain, hiding me near the center of their ranks as if the dwarves I told them were coming shortly behind me had plans to kill me rather than simply gave them their gold and jewels for the Arkenstone. I supposed it was for the best; I knew the dwarves wouldn’t hurt me, of course, but it would only hurt all of us further if they saw me again. Even after they’d gotten what they wanted from the dwarves, however, I could see the tension lingering over them, Gandalf especially. I didn’t bother to ask, instead only hoping that they wouldn’t attack the dwarves despite the army of them that came not long after I was exiled.

Of course, the last thing I expected, early one morning, was for a cry of “Orcs!” to pierce the air. I stiffened, jolting up, and felt Gandalf catch me about the waist and hoist me up so I wouldn’t be trampled by a flood of feet as the elves and men prepared for battle.

“Gandalf?” I asked, and he only shook his head.

“I warned them. We are lucky they agreed to stay, else Erebor would have been swarmed. Thorin wouldn’t hear my warning.”

“How did you know?” I asked, not expecting an answer and not getting one beyond a shake of his head. If nothing else, Wizards kept their secrets, after all, no matter how frustrating. “How can I help?”

“Stay hidden. I fear this is not a fight to be won by cunning, and none wish for you to die beneath an orc’s blade. He carried me towards some hastily erected tents that I assumed were medical in nature and left me there, striding off with purpose in his step, staff held aloft before him. I don’t doubt that he knew I couldn’t stay put.

I waited until no one was looking in my direction and slipped my ring on my finger, drawing my sword and ducking into the outskirts of the fray, doing what I could to help while still keeping anyone from truly noticing me. Only Dain’s dwarves helped us fight—mine stayed within Erebor. I found myself caught between happiness and disappointment. They would be safe, but the Thorin I’d known never would have allowed someone else to fight a fight he thought was his. I thought of them, Kili especially, while I fought, thought of making their home safe. It was a good last gift, I decided, the very last thing that I could do for them before I returned to the Shire. Perhaps eventually they would even be able to draw Thorin from his sickness, and Kili would be able to find another that made him happy.

I fingered the bead he’d given me softly between swings at the orc army. I’d make myself crazy if I thought anything else, imagined that he’d be unhappy, that any of them would be unhappy after all we’d gone through. And then, of course, the gates to Erebor burst open and they all came flying out, weapons held aloft, and I almost wanted to cry because suddenly they weren’t safe anymore. I tried to stay close to them, watched Kili look for me on the battlefield, heard him call for me once or twice when the battle turned from him, but I knew I couldn’t show myself.

It’d be better if he thought me gone, however much that ached in the moment, if only so he wouldn’t risk himself in some foolish attempt to protect me, and I could focus fully on making certain no orc was able to take them by surprise. I think that they noticed the flag the same time that I did, and I could’ve cursed them for splitting up. Though more stayed behind to fight on the ground than went to examine the signal, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Kili’s side, and so I followed them up, and when they broke again, for Fili and Kili to explore the caves, I chose to stay with him again.

I became suspicious the moment we started climbing—the orcs were not the brightest, that I knew, but the pale orc at least would not be foolish enough to make their signal so obvious. The deathly silence only made me more certain, and though I was still afraid, I took off the ring and hid it away. Better, I supposed, to risk myself being hurt than to let them walk into a trap. For a moment they were all too surprised to speak, and I took advantage.  

“It’s a trap,” I said, and then Kili had thrown his arms around me and pulled me close, squeezing tightly enough that it ached a little. Thorin frowned, deep lines marring the space around his mouth and his forehead.

“Hobbit,” he bit, but there wasn’t much heat to it now, and his eyes were clearer than they’d been in a long while. It gave me hope, though precious little, and I tried to not show it. I felt warmth on my neck, and heard Kili mumbling against my skin.

“Bilbo, Bilbo, I thought I’d never see you again, I was afraid you were dead, don’t leave me again Bilbo please don’t leave me.” Thoughtless, my hand settled in his hair and I stroked it softly, felt him nuzzle more firmly against me for a moment, before Thorin spoke again.

“Let the hobbit speak, Kili. What do you mean by trap?” Kili didn’t move an inch.

“I mean that it is a trap. Look around, and listen. It’s too quiet, and there are better places than this for a signal. You know that.” He stared at me for a moment, sharp eyed, until at last he nodded, soft, almost to himself.

“Everyone, stay close together—chances are they mean to separate us and kill us one by one. And Kili, let the hobbit hide again. They mean to surprise us, I suppose we ought to have one for them as well.” I could feel his unwillingness, sharp and bitter, and stroked his cheek gently.

“I’ll be right beside you,” I murmured, “I won’t leave.” Slowly, so carefully, desperately slowly, he let me go and stepped away, watching me slide the ring back on my finger and flicker out of sight. I disliked the haze that fell over the world when I wore the ring, the shadows that flickered around the edges of my vision, the soft hisses in my ears. Still, I’d endure it. As Thorin had said, if they planned to surprise us, we ought to have a shock for them too.

The orcs did try to tempt us into separation, and I shuddered to think about what would have happened if we had broken apart. When they finally had no choice but to show themselves to us, strong and wild and ready to spill blood, I did not doubt that at least one of us would have died, and swallowed stiffly. We fought as hard as we could, me ducking under blows from opponents who couldn’t see me, catching them when their backs were turned, distracting them from the dwarves so they could gather themselves and offer blows of their own.

I was terrified. We were outnumbered, and even if we were not, the orcs fought without care for themselves, seeking only to kill even if that meant dying themselves. I tried to catch a mace headed for Kili’s head on my sword, and managed even if I hit the ground myself in the process, groaning quietly so as to alert Kili to the astoundingly confused orc behind him, and rolled out of the way so that he could fight, snarling and enraged and probably horrified that I might’ve been hurt. I dragged myself to my feet, rubbed the bead again, and tried again to do what I could. Though I was sure all the dwarves but Kili would probably rather move to Rivendell than admit it, the arrival of Legolas and Tauriel saved us.

                They turned the tide in our favor again, and I thought perhaps that we would survive the trap when Azog appeared and drew Thorin away, onto thin ice where the other dwarves could not follow for fear of upsetting the delicate balance of weight and sending Thorin into the freezing water. I was light enough, though, and I knew that. With one last deep breath, I bounded after them onto the ice.

                The two fought hard, and Thorin held his own, but he had been fighting for a long time and all of us were yet weak from our journey. I kept my distance for a while, until I saw Azog gaining the upper hand, and then… then, though the hobbit I used to be would have shrieked in disbelief, I threw myself between the blade of Azog’s arm and Thorin’s body.

                It caught me in the arm, just below the sleeve of the mithril coat, and I heard myself cry out, saw Thorin’s blade pierce Azog’s body, felt myself falling with him, unable to free myself. Thorin tried to pick me up, though he couldn’t see me, didn’t know where I was hurt, and I only barely managed to slip the ring off of my finger and into my pocket with my good arm. Kili screamed my name, pain unhidden in his voice, and I closed my eyes, trying not to scream again as Thorin lifted me, holding the hurt arm as steadily as he could, whispering apologies like prayers. I stared up at the sky, and the last thing I saw was the eagles flying overhead.

* * *

 

                I awoke in one of the medical tents, Kili clutching the hand of my uninjured arm so firmly that it felt somewhat cold. I chuckled, throat dry, and Kili jolted. I hadn’t thought it possible, but somehow he gripped my hand even more tightly.

                “Bilbo, Bilbo, thank Mahal you’re alright,” he said, over and over, and I felt myself smile.

                “Kili, love, loosen your grip a bit, will you? My hand is tingling.” He coughed out a laugh of his own and did as I’d asked, holding his head down and trying not to let me see him cry. My injured arm was wrapped tightly in bandages and immobilized against my body. I didn’t want to think about how much worse it could’ve been, and expected that Kili didn’t either. “Is everyone else well?” He nodded, sniffling.

                “A few people are hurt, broken bones, cuts, that kind of thing, but we’ll all live,” he managed, hovering over me, and I nodded, letting my eyes drift closed again even though I didn’t go back to sleep. Rather, I just enjoyed his company, the warmth of his presence at my side, almost unable to believe that things had turned out as well as they had and unwilling to think of what would happen next. I almost could have cried myself when, after a long while of the two of us sitting together, the tent flap opened and Thorin slid inside.

                He stiffened for a moment at seeing me awake, and for one tense moment I feared that he would send Kili out and tell me again that I was unwelcome in his presence, but instead he only bowed, deep and low and heavy, clearing his throat.

                “I am… Bilbo, I am glad you are awake. I would like… I must apologize for my actions in the last weeks. I was a fool, and I was blind, and yet still you saved me again. I know that for what I have done, I am not worthy to be king, nor to be forgiven, by you nor any other member of the company, but still I must ask it, and beg you know how regretful I am.” The words surprised me, to be sure, though Kili seemed to have heard something similar already.

                “Thorin, of course you are forgiven. You are my friend, and you did what you did because of the madness the gold wrought upon you. I cannot say that I understand, not fully, but I know that you are not to blame.” Uncle and nephew both offered a smile, Kili’s a little brighter, a little softer, and his thumb ran gentle circles over the back of my hand.

                “I must also apologize to the two of you as a pair. I should not have separated you, nor doubted that you held my nephew’s heart, and he your own. I offer you both my blessing. I would also like to say that… I did not intend to eavesdrop, but I heard Kili and his brother discussing a conversation that the two of you had about Kili returning to your Shire with you. Though I admit that even the thought of such makes me miss the both of you deeply, and I am certain that I am not alone in that, I offer you my approval in that as well, and wish you both happiness.” Again I was caught off guard, but Kili was thrilled enough for us both, I think, bending over me and pressing his lips to mine, warm and soft and kind, and I felt his love as strongly as I ever had.

                “Thank you, Uncle,” he said, dusty and dirty and scraped and bruised but smiling like he’d been offered the world. Thorin nodded.

                “You’ve no need to thank me for that. Only tell me when you wish to go and I will have a party set up to escort you.” Kili kissed me again, and I returned it as best I could, sighing happily against his lips.

                “I love you so much,” I whispered, and he whispered the same in return. “Shall we go home?” He grinned, first at me and then his uncle, who only shook his head, fondness obvious in his eyes.

                “I’ll have it done, then. I expect you ought to tell the others what’s happening—I doubt they’d be pleased if you left without a goodbye.” I laughed, then, loud and still disbelieving, but far too happy for words, and Kili helped me to my feet and steadied me when I swayed, dark eyes sweet and hands gentle. After all that had happened, all the both of us had learned, all the love we’d found, I looked forward to another lifetime of the same, and squeezed his hand in mine.


End file.
